


Notes from the Past

by TanyaReed



Category: Relic Hunter
Genre: F/M, Fantasy, Gen, Holidays, NaNoWriMo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-29
Updated: 2012-10-09
Packaged: 2017-11-15 07:04:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 49,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TanyaReed/pseuds/TanyaReed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was my Nanowrimo story from 2006.  A Christmas gift with a personal connection sends Sydney on a different kind of hunt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sydney Fox hummed as she went around the room hanging red and green and gold garland. She also watched Karen out of the corner of her eye. Both of them had step stools, but Karen seemed a little more unsteady as she stretched to reach the top of one of the doorways. Sydney was worried she might have to race over and catch her administrative assistant before the pretty blond hit the floor.

Sydney stopped humming and turned to look at Karen when she suddenly belted out the chorus to “Meet me under the Mistletoe on Midnight Christmas Eve”. She raised one elegant eyebrow because the song she was humming and the one coming out of her speakers was “Oh Come all ye Faithful”.

Karen grinned at her boss unselfconsciously and said, “Thank you so much, Sydney, for inviting me to spend the holidays with you. When Cory told me he wanted to spend Christmas vacation in Denver, I didn't know what I was going to do with myself.”

“This is the kind of house that should be full of friends and family on Christmas.”

The house Sydney spoke of was a new acquisition on her part. It was a big, rambling number she had bought just that past summer. It had three bedrooms, a wonderful study, and loads of nooks and crannies in which to stick ancient artifacts without a home. Nigel might have liked modern in his personal life, but Sydney loved to surround herself with whispers of the past.

Her new house was so homey that Sydney wanted her first Christmas in it to be special. Her first thought had been to invite her father and Jenny, but they had already promised their Christmas to Jenny's parents. Undeterred, Sydney had invited Nigel, who didn't want to spend Christmas with Preston—he rarely did. When they found out that Karen would also be alone for Christmas, it seemed like fate. It had actually been Nigel's idea to call up Claudia and make it a quartet.

That's where Nigel was at the moment. The night before, he and Karen had arrived and helped Sydney put up the tree. Now, he was at the airport fetching Claudia while Sydney and Karen finished decorating the house. It was Christmas Eve, and the four of them would be spending the next three days together.

Sydney critically eyed Karen's spring of mistletoe. “Don't you think that's a little much?”

“With only one man in the house, we really want him to be able to see it.”

Sydney had a sudden flash of her, Claudia, and Karen all ganging up to kiss Nigel at the same time. She could just imagine her poor teaching assistant's face. This thought caused her to laugh as she went back to her Christmas decoration box.

It was hard to believe she'd bought so much stuff. There were things she'd probably never use in a million years. She did, however, take out the stuffed Santa and Rudolf to place strategically across the room. One, she put on the fireplace between two of her favorite pictures—one of Sydney and Nigel and one of Randall and Jenny. The other, she put in a chair that had been draped with a pretty Christmas afghan. It seemed that her secretary could crochet as well as all the other wonderful things she could do.

“Karen, speaking of thanks, I wanted to thank you for offering to take charge of the meal tomorrow. I have a feeling that without you, Nigel, Claudia, and I in the kitchen would create a horrible whirlpool of chaos.”

“No problem, Syd. I'm just glad you trust me to do it.”

“I've trusted you with my reputation for the past year and a half, I think I can trust you with dinner.”

This got a beaming smile from Karen, but all she said was, “Is there any more mistletoe?”

“I think you've already got pieces on every doorway in the house.”

“I was thinking about putting one by the Christmas tree.”

“That might just be overkill.”

“I guess you're right.”

Sydney glanced at the tree in question and warmth filled her as she remembered its decorating. She didn't think she'd had as much fun decorating a tree since she was a child, before her mother died. Plus, it had turned out great. She and Karen had put on the mother of pearl garland because Nigel had insisted on putting on the lights. Apparently, he considered this “the man's job”. Afterwards, the three of them took out Sydney's bulbs, as well as some new ones Nigel had bought and some Karen had brought from home. With Christmas music playing in the background, the three of them had decorated with abandon, reverting to children and squabbling, teasing, and laughing as they hung the ornaments on the tree. Sydney had found it interesting that their decorating methods were akin to their personalities. She hung things wherever it felt right, relying on intuition. Nigel, on the other hand, approached the task logically, carefully studying the tree for holes before applying each bulb. Karen also decorated carefully, starting from one side of the tree and making her way around, putting decorations the same distance apart. It should have made the tree look funny, but it didn't. It looked great. Much like the three of them, it came together to make a pleasing whole.

“It turned out well, didn't it?” Karen asked, as if reading her mind.

“Definitely.”

“Do you think Mafdet would like a bow on her head?” Karen reached into Sydney's Christmas box and hauled out a bag of multicolored bows.

“The last time someone tried something cute on her, they got bloody fingers, but you're welcome to try.”

“I think I'll pass.”

“Good idea.”

Sydney came to stand beside Karen and looked in the box as well. “I think we've pretty much done all we can to decorate—unless we decide to wear the garland ourselves.”

“That could be fun.”

“Nigel would think we'd been drinking while he was away.”

Karen laughed. “Which could also be fun.”

Sydney winked. “Especially when you get him under the mistletoe?”

She blushed but wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Sydney just shook her head and started closing the box.

“Wait!”

“What?”

Karen fished in the box and came out with a round sleigh bell on a string. With just a little bit of trouble, she tied the string around her wrist. She moved her wrist experimentally and looked extremely pleased at the little tinkles it made.

After the box was closed, Sydney headed upstairs to put it in her attic. The attic was one of her favorite things about her new house. She had never had an attic before, and her apartments had always been full of clutter—neat clutter, but clutter nonetheless. Now, she could tuck away all the things she wanted to keep but had never had room for before.

A lot of her mother's things were up there, her grandmother's trunk, and things her father played with as a boy. There were also relics and antiques that her house was already too full to find a place for. 

Sydney couldn't resist opening Isabelle's trunk before leaving. Some of the things were missing, secreted away in Sydney's own room, but the dresses were still there. Sydney felt very close to her grandmother with the material of Isabelle's gowns slipping through her fingers.

“Sydney!” She heard Karen call up the stairs. “They're here.”

Sydney gently closed Isabelle's trunk and went to the attic window. She saw her jeep just pulling into her driveway, and she hoped Nigel was driving and not Claudia.

As she made her way out of the attic and down the stairs, she realized that she was excited to see Claudia again. Sydney had only seen her twice since the tiny blond had moved away to follow her dreams. It was actually amusing to her how much she missed Claudia. As her secretary, Claudia had made her way into Sydney's heart, probably more because of her bizarre, off-the-wall behavior than despite it. Nigel had never given any indication that he felt the same, but Sydney remembered his reaction when he thought Claudia might be dead.

She reached the entryway just as the door opened, and she could hear Claudia and Nigel bickering good naturedly.

“...there's not a lot of luggage. I packed as li...”

Claudia trailed off as she saw Sydney and dropped the suitcase in her hand.

“Syd!”

Her body hit Sydney's with such enthusiasm that both of them almost fell over onto the floor.

“Hey, Claudia.”

Over Claudia's shoulder, Sydney saw Karen rush over to help Nigel, who was completely obscured by an armload of luggage.

“Do you think you have enough for three days?”

“Funny, Syd,” Claudia said, pulling away with a serious face, but her blue eyes twinkled mischievously.

Sydney made a face to show she was kidding before she too went over to help Nigel. As his face appeared underneath the baggage, she could see it was flushed with strain.

“Come on, Claudia,” Sydney said, “We'll show you up to your room. You'll be sharing with Karen. I hope that's all right.”

Claudia turned to face Karen and the two blonds eyed each other. They had gotten on well the one time they'd met, and Sydney hoped the trend would continue.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

After bringing Claudia's things upstairs, the four of them went into the living room. Claudia oohed and ahhed over the decorations, then joyfully asked if the big black cat sleeping in the recliner was one of them. 

“Why don't you touch her to see if she's real?” Nigel asked, no doubt thinking about the scratch he'd received when he'd displaced Mafdet from her favorite sleeping place earlier that morning.

Claudia ignored this and eyed the mistletoe over the door instead. With a sly smile, she said, “You'd better watch out, honeybun.”

“What?”

She gestured with her hand. Nigel's gaze followed the gesture and his eyes widened. “Sydney!”

“Don't look at me. It was all Karen's doing.”

His face flamed as his eyes darted from Sydney to Karen and back again.

“Don't you like mistletoe, Nigel?” Karen asked guilelessly.

“It's...it's fine.”

Claudia shot Sydney a look of pure joy, and Sydney had the feeling that Nigel might be tortured just a little over the next few days. She hoped it wouldn't make him regret his decision to spend the holidays with them.

She was wondering if she should save him from his embarrassment when the phone rang. Deciding to answer the one in the hall, she said, “I'll be right back. Go easy on him, girls.”

Both Claudia and Karen gave her almost identical innocent looks. Sydney found she was grinning by the time she got to the phone. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, Scootchie.”

“Dad!” She thought he wouldn't be calling until Christmas day. Hearing his voice earlier made her so happy that she didn't bother to admonish him for the childhood nickname.

“Good news. Jenny's got an aunt who lives an hour away from you, and her Mom wants everyone to go visit. That means Jenny and I will be able to drop in for a bit tomorrow night.”

“Really? That's great!”

“I'm really happy about this. Christmas just isn't Christmas without my Scootchie.”

Okay, so she couldn't let that one go. “Dad...”

He laughed and said, “See you tomorrow.”

“I'll be here. Love you...and love to Jenny.”

“Backatcha. Bye.”

“Bye, Dad.”

Sydney made her way back to the living room. She could hear Karen and Claudia laughing and was glad the two of them were getting along without jealousy. 

“Who was that, Syd?” Nigel asked, looking up from the chair he was sharing with both Mafdet and the reindeer.

“It was Dad. He's going to be able to make it for a little while tomorrow after all.”

“That's great!”

“Yeah.”

“You're lucky,” Claudia commented wistfully. “My parents are skiing in Aspen for Christmas this year. Some sort of second honeymoon.”

“You turned down Aspen to spend Christmas with us?” Nigel asked, surprised.

“Well, I didn't have the feeling that I was invited...Besides, I love you guys!”

They spent the rest of the afternoon catching up with Claudia. Once dark set in, they all piled in Sydney's jeep and went for a drive through the suburbs to look at the Christmas lights. It was something Sydney had enjoyed as a child, and she wanted to share this with her friends. 

Afterwards, they ordered Chinese food for supper before disappearing to get their gifts for under the tree.

Sydney curiously eyed each package with her name on it as it went under the tree, wondering what was inside. She had to fight the urge to sit on the floor and shake them to see if they rattled.

Claudia had no such compunction and, as soon as everyone had regathered, she was under the tree poking and feeling. She even seemed to be prodding presents that weren't hers.

"Sydney, I think your cousin Katy gave you a sweater."

"Really?" Sydney asked with a straight face. "What color?"

"Green," she answered without hesitation. 

Karen drew her brows together in a frown. "Are you sure it's not blue?"

"No. Definitely green."

For not the first time that day, Sydney found herself shaking her head.

"I'm going in the kitchen to get some hot chocolate. Anyone else up for some?"

Everyone answered in the affirmative, so Nigel offered to come help carry. As they left the room, Sydney heard Karen and Claudia whispering and giggling.

"I wonder if it was such a good idea to introduce those two," she commented.

"I keep getting the feeling they have something horrible planned for me," Nigel agreed.

The hot chocolate was instant so it took only minutes to make. Sydney heated up the water in her kettle, and Nigel searched for the marshmallows. As he did, he happened to glance out the window.

"Hey, look, Syd, it's snowing!"

Sydney followed his gaze, pleased to see big fat flakes falling out of the sky. So far, the season had been pretty "green", but she had been hoping for a white Christmas.

She came up behind him, placing her hand on his shoulder, to watch the snow fall in thick and gentle flakes. He turned his head and grinned at her, a genuine, little boy, delighted, I can't believe it's Christmas grin. She returned it--how could she not?--and squeezed his shoulder.

"This is going to be a good Christmas."

"It's already better than most of the Christmases I've had since becoming an adult before moving to the States," he said softly. Sydney thought she detected a touch of sadness in his voice.

Her hand moved from his shoulder to cup the back of his head gently. His hair was very soft. "Well, you're one of us now. You'll never get rid of us."

His smile came back. "Some sort of cult, are we? You're not going to ask me to eat snake heads or anything, are you?"

"No, not snake heads. Maybe a small toad."

She let him go and continued filling the mugs. Nigel brought over the mini marshmallows and plunked them in. Then, he picked up two of the mugs. Sydney picked up the other two and they headed in the direction of the girlish giggles.

Entering the living room, the first thing Sydney noticed was that the girls had changed into their pajamas. Karen was wearing a small nightdress decently covered by her pink robe. Claudia was wearing a pair of huge pajamas that were way too big for her slender frame. They had purple and pink stripes and hot pink buttons up the front.

"Getting ready for Santa already?" Sydney asked archly, handing one of the mugs to Karen. "It's only seven o'clock."

"Yes, but it's Christmas Eve!" Claudia announced. "Santa has to know your intent to go to bed early. Besides, what's more comfy than lounging around in your PJs, sipping hot chocolate, and watching the twinkling of the tree lights with the snow falling outside?"

“When I was little,” Karen said, settling into Mafdet's favorite chair and tucking one leg beneath her, “our strings of lights were made up of regular and individually twinkling bulbs. They all twinkled at a different pace, making a very faint tinkling noise. If you listened closely, it sounded almost as if the tree were singing. I can't tell you how many times I fell asleep on the couch, lulled by the music of our tree.”

Claudia curled up on the floor by the tree, thanking Nigel as he handed her her hot chocolate. She wrapped her arms around her legs and put her chin on her knees. Sydney thought she looked about ten years old. 

“Every year, my mother would drag me around town, looking for the perfect tree. We never decorated our own; we always bought one already decorated. It was like a quest to her. It was our own special day, and the final decision on which tree we brought home was always mine. It made me feel important. My parents weren't around a lot, but they always made sure we were together for Christmas.”

“Christmas was always Dad's favorite time of year,” Sydney put in as she and Nigel settled close together on the couch. “He used to wear Santa hats and decorate the house even more crazily than Karen and I did today. He'd start in November telling me that Santa was coming, and by Christmas Eve, I was so wound up that Mom never knew what to do with me.”

Nigel threw her a glance, and she could tell by the look in his eye that he was picturing her as a wriggly child too excited to go to sleep. As a matter of fact, it couldn't have been too hard for him since he'd often seen her as a pacing adult too excited to go to sleep.

“What about you, Nigel?” Karen asked. “What was one of your favorite things about Christmas?”

“We used to spend our Christmases in the country. I remember that we were always trying to be good so that Father Christmas would come. Preston and I actually got along. Sometimes, my father would hire a sleigh and we'd bundle in the back. It would be worth having to take my allergy medication to be sliding in the snow, smooshed between my mother and my brother, warm and cold at the same time.”

“That's sweet Nigel,” Karen said. “I always wanted to go on a sleigh ride, but we could never afford it.”

“Only a handful of places I've lived actually had snow,” Sydney admitted. “I've always loved snow.”

Nigel protested, “But you hate being cold, Syd.”

She shrugged. “What can I say? I'm a complex woman.”

She noticed no one tried to argue with that.

“This is definitely a better Christmas than last,” Nigel commented after a few minutes.

“It wasn't so bad.”

Karen started to laugh.

“What happened?” Claudia demanded.

Karen laughed harder, and Sydney had to fight to keep her mouth from twitching.

“What?” Claudia asked again.

Nigel groaned. “You don't want to know.”

“Oh, yes, I do.”

“Karen,” Sydney asked, “Do you want to do the honours?”

“I wasn't there, Syd. Would I really do it justice?”

“Do you want to tell the story, Nigel?”

He groaned again and snatched up the nearest cushion to put in front of his face.

“Then, I guess it's up to me.”

“Can't we just let sleeping dogs lie?” came from under the cushion.

“No, we cannot!” Claudia exclaimed. “Spill it, Sydney.”

“Well,” she started, “We were on a hunt last Christmas, and, though I wanted to be done and gone before then, Christmas Eve found us still searching for the relic...”


	2. Chapter 2

_“Sydney, I'm cold,” Nigel whined as the two of them pushed their way through calf high drifts._

_“Don't you think I'm cold, Nigel?”_

_He stopped and eyed her carefully. She knew what he saw. She was wet clean through, her hair hung in tangles, and she couldn't stop shivering._

_“I'm sorry,” he said immediately. “Do you want my jacket?”_

_It was a sweet offer, but she actually wanted him to make it back to the bed and breakfast they were staying in._

_“No. Let's just find the trail. I think it's over this way.”_

_“I hope so.” This time, his gaze went to the sky. “It's getting dark.”_

_Sydney could tell this without him voicing it._

_Luckily for them, Sydney had been right and they stumbled from the unbroken snow onto a beaten path. She heard Nigel sigh with relief, and put a hand on his wrist in empathy. It was hard to tell which was more chilled, his skin or hers._

_They trudged the rest of the way back in silence. Sydney was thinking about the clue she had discovered, one that could very well lead them to the relic in the morning. All in all, it had been a pretty good hunt, even if they had to finish it on Christmas day._

_Twilight was just slipping into true dark, and snow was just starting to drift down on them, when they got back to the bed and breakfast. The house gleamed whitely in the glow from the half hidden moon, and the lights from the windows beckoned welcomingly._

_“I can't wait to get out of these wet clothes,” Sydney said as they crossed the last few feet to the porch._

_“Neither can I,” Nigel agreed through chattering teeth. It looked like his lips were turning blue._

_Sydney got to the door first, opening it wide to let Nigel in ahead of her. He hesitated a moment, as if he were going to shoo her in, then seemed to change his mind and slipped past._

_The warmth inside enveloped Sydney as she closed the door behind them. Gratefully, she pulled off her boots and slid off her socks as well. She watched closely to make sure Nigel did the same._

_As her body absorbed the warmth, Sydney began to notice a wonderful smell permeating the air. Her stomach growled loudly in answer to it, and Nigel looked at her sharply._

_“What? Lunch was a long time ago.”_

_“I didn't say a word.”_

_Sydney rolled her eyes. “Come on. Let's get changed.”_

_The two of them started for the stairs, which were right by the door._

_“You two look chilled to the bone!” A warm, concerned voice floated to them._

_A large man, dressed in jeans and a plaid lumberjack shirt, came into the room. Brown hair and a dark beard framed a fierce face, and he might have been frightening if he didn't have the kindest eyes Sydney had ever seen._

_“We are,” Nigel admitted. “It's cold out there.”_

_“We were just going to change,” Sydney added._

_“You might want to take a hot bath too. There's lots of hot water.”_

_That sounded like heaven. “We just might.”_

_“But don't take too long. Jim and I are making Christmas dinner.”_

_That was why the house smelled so good. Jim was the brother to this bear of a man, also called Ben, though they looked nothing alike. Jim was shorter and more slim than even Nigel, handsome, and clean shaven. Both of them were older than Sydney, but not old. Her guess put them in their early forties._

_“Christmas dinner?” Nigel asked wistfully._

_Ben smiled at him fondly. “Yep. Turkey, potatoes, three kinds of stuffing, cranberries, homemade bread and rolls, sweet potatoes, pie, and cake._

_This time, it was Nigel's stomach's turn to growl. He blushed prettily, and Sydney had to laugh._

_“Sounds like you'll be ready,” Ben commented with a quirky smile and a twinkle in his blue eyes._

_Nigel clamped a hand over his belly and frowned._

_“Come on, Nige,” Sydney said, giving him a slight push._

_He tripped a little as he started up the stairs, and she felt slightly guilty. Even so, she was too cold and hungry to feel guilty enough to apologize._

_The bed and breakfast had eight guest rooms, three of which were occupied, and two bathrooms. As Sydney pattered to her room, the rug felt soft and warm against her poor ice packs of feet. Nigel's room was beside hers, and one of the bathrooms was on the other side. Sydney hurried to grab clothes, a towel, and a facecloth. She wanted to reach the closest bathroom before Nigel, so she wouldn't have to go way to the other side of the house. She was too cold to feel guilty about this either._

_As she exited her room, she noted that Nigel's bedroom door was closed. She wondered if that meant he was in or out. There was only one way to find out. She went to the bathroom door and listened. Not hearing running water, she tried the knob. She sighed in bliss as it turned easily in her hand._

_Already anticipating the hot water soaking all the chill from her body, Sydney eagerly pushed the door open._

_Nigel was standing there in his underwear, and the way his fingers were hooked in them, they were about to go as well. Seeing Sydney, he let out a squeak and cracked his elbow against the sink._

_"Sydney!"_

_She was as startled as he was. If she'd been just two seconds slower, she would have gotten as much of an eyefull as she had by mistake that time in the Swedish nudist spa._

_"Nigel! Why didn't you lock the door?" she gasped._

_"I thought I did!" he exclaimed, rubbing his elbow._

_"Well, obviously you didn't." Then she remembered something that made him squeamish. To get back at him for getting to the bathroom first, she said, "Now that I'm here, we could always share the tub. It might help to bring back some warmth to our bodies."_

_Nigel's eyes widened and he opened his mouth for a few seconds before snapping it shut again._

_She grinned at him. "Oh, don't worry. I'll go all the way down the hall to the other bathroom." She stretched out 'all the way' to let Nigel know how very far away it felt to her._

_"No," he said, "you take this one, Syd. I don't mind going down the hall."_

_This time, her guilt was stronger than her discomfort. She ordered, "You're already undressed. You stay here. Walking a few feet won't kill me."_

_He looked so relieved that her guilt deepened. She patted him on a clammy shoulder, went out, and shut the door behind her._

_Sydney felt much more human when she left the bathroom a half an hour later. Her mood was light. After all, it was Christmas and they would probably find the relic the next day. She had Nigel's present in her bag, and she was sure he would love it. She was a little disappointed that she wouldn't be seeing her father, but she would call him and, if they did find the relic, she'd fly out to see him the day after Christmas instead of heading home with Nigel._

_Returning to her room, Sydney blew her hair until it was only slightly damp, combed it, and tied it up. She was just finishing this when there was a knock on the door._

_“Come in, Nigel.”_

_He entered looking pleasantly damp, with his hair sticking up like a little boy's. He had also chosen one of his nicest outfits and he looked snuggly. As this thought went through her mind, she wondered what Nigel's reaction would be if he knew it._

_“Ready?” she asked._

_“Definitely. The smell is driving me mad.”_

_“I wonder if it's done yet.”_

_“Let's find out. Shall we?”_

_The smells got more enticing the closer they got to the dining room. The other two guests were already there, their faces alight with anticipation. They were a young man and woman, recently married, and very pleasant, though Sydney found them a bit too cheerful. At least they weren't sickenly sweet like John and Erica. Both of them smiled as Sydney and Nigel entered the room._

_“You made it,” the woman, Beth, said._

_Her husband, Adam, added, “I thought we were going to have to send a search party for you.”_

_“You don't need a search party when food smells that good,” Nigel said lightly. “We'll be having company from three towns over if it takes too much longer.”_

_“Ben was just in and told us another five or ten minutes or so.”_

_“Do you think we should help set the table?”_

_“I'm sure they're fine, Nigel,” Sydney answered. “They are two grown men.”_

_“But isn't it rude not to offer?”_

_Sydney waved her hand. “Offer if you like.”_

_Nigel ended up not offering as Ben came out at that moment bearing plates and glasses. Jim was close behind him with cups and forks and knives._

_“You two are looking much better,” Ben said as he placed his load on the table._

_“We're feeling much better, thanks,” Nigel answered._

_“But you might want to check the lock on the bathroom door,” Sydney put in._

_“Oh, which one?”_

_“The one by our rooms. We almost had an embarrassing situation.”_

_Beth grinned at Nigel, causing a flush to tinge his face. Her husband laughed softly._

_“I'll check that tonight after we eat,” Ben assured them._

_“Speaking of which...?” Adam asked questioningly._

_“Not long now. Probably another five minutes. Would you say so, Jim?”_

_“Yes.”_

_For the next few minutes, the only sound was the clinking of plates and cutlery and the occasional soft whisper between Adam and Beth. Sydney looked at them with a mixture of amusement, fondness, and envy. They seemed so happy._

_By the time the food arrived, she was good and hungry. She had begun to feel hungry even before it got dark, and the feeling had gotten steadily worse as time progressed. The only respite she'd had was in the tub when all she could think of was how good the water felt._

_Nigel must have been just as hungry because when he saw the turkey his eyes almost started glowing. Sydney poked him in the side with her elbow._

_“You look like a starving dog,” she whispered teasingly._

_“At least I've never stolen a bone from one,” he whispered back._

_Sydney laughed loudly and everyone turned to see what was so funny. Still grinning, she said, “Sorry.”_

_The meal was as delicious as it smelled. Talking mostly ceased as the people around the table enjoyed the feast their two unlikely chefs had prepared. The only noise was the sound of cutlery clanking against the Christmas themed porcelain plates._

_Both Sydney and Nigel were soon reduced from 'I'm so hungry I could eat a mall Santa' to 'I couldn't eat another bite'. For Nigel, it was after two pieces of cake and a piece of pie. He sat beside Sydney, rubbing his stomach and groaning softly._

_“I told you not to have that second piece of cake.”_

_“But it was so good...”_

_That, she couldn't argue with. She got to her feet, saying, “Thanks, guys, that was delicious. It was so nice of you to make us Christmas dinner when we're so far from home.”_

_Both of the brothers beamed at this. They looked so sweet that Sydney was tempted to give them each a nice big hug. She refrained and settled for, “This is the nicest Christmas I've ever spent from home.”_

_“Well, you're welcome to come and spend Christmas with us any time,” Ben said. “That goes for all of you. We enjoy having company for the holidays.”_

_Adam and Beth went off to their room after having eaten, but Sydney and Nigel weren't up to retiring yet. Instead, they went to the living room. The bed and breakfast had two such rooms. One was mostly a TV and movie room, with a stereo, television, VCR, DVD player, game system, and other electronic pass times. The other was a large, comfortable room with a big fireplace, fluffy chairs, lots of books, and, for Christmas, a huge, wonderfully decorated, Christmas tree._

_It was into this second one they wandered. The hot bath and food made Sydney sleepy despite not wanting to go to bed at such an early hour. She could tell Nigel was feeling the same as he was blinking more than usual and she caught him politely hiding a yawn behind his hand._

_As they entered the room, Sydney was pleased to see a fire roaring in the fireplace. The bed and breakfast's white cat was curled up under the Christmas tree, whose lights were on and twinkling merrily._

_She let out a sigh and made a beeline for the nearest armchair. It was soft and squishy. Sydney settled in, getting as comfortable as she could as soon as she could. The chair was close enough to the fire that heat licked her pleasantly._

_Nigel was close behind her, smothering another yawn. Seeing she had taken the first chair, he headed for the chair nearest the tree. Unfortunately, as he was passing, he didn't see the cat._

_The cat's eyes snapped open and she let out a high pitched yowl as Nigel trod on her tail. Nigel stumbled, and the cat shot into the air. She used Nigel as a spring board and pushed off to fly towards the dining room. Poor Nigel didn't know what hit him as he tried to keep his feet._

_Sydney watched in hopeless horror as her friend tottered, trying to stay upright. He took a step, but it was in the wrong direction. Colliding with the tree, he clutched it so he wouldn't fall._

_The tree and Nigel both leaned precariously towards Sydney. She immediately knew that she was in the wrong place. She abandoned her chair, jumping over the arm, just in time as Nigel fell over and the tree came down with a horrible crash and the sound of broken ornaments._

_“Nigel! Nigel, are you all right?” she exclaimed._

_He was lying half under the tree, looking stunned. Footsteps sounded from all around the house, some coming from the direction of the dining room and others clumping hurriedly down the stairs._

_“What...?” Nigel attempted._

_“Oh, Nigel, did you hurt yourself?”_

_Sydney climbed over chair and tree labourously to kneel beside him. He was groaning and his face was smudged with a bit of tree sap._

_Ben was the first of the others to come in the room. “What happened?”_

_He took in the whole scene and, to his credit, seemed more concerned with Nigel than his upset tree._

_“Is he okay?”_

_“I'm not sure. Nigel?”_

_“I'm...I'm not hurt...” he said faintly._

_Sydney gave a sigh of relief as she slapped his shoulder. “You've got to be more careful.”_

_“Sorry, Syd.”_

_“Nigel had a little accident,” Sydney told Ben unnecessarily, just as the other three occupants arrived._

_“That's some accident,” Adam said._

_“My tree!” Jim said at the same time._

_“Let's see about getting Nigel out from under it.” Ben shot a look at his brother. The big man then picked up the tree as if it were nothing more than a twig._

_“I'm sorry, Ben. I'm sorry, Jim.” Nigel's tone was distressed._

_“It's all right,” Jim assured him as Beth started picking decorations off of the floor._

_Sydney helped Nigel to sit up, studying him to make sure he really was all right. He looked mortified._

_“I think,” Sydney commented, “I should take my friend to his room before he tears the place down.”_

_“Shouldn't we help with the tree?”_

_Ben held up his hand. “Don't worry about it. I don't think too much damage was done.”_

_“Though you might want to apologize to the cat,” Sydney whispered for Nigel's ears alone._

_He didn't answer. Instead, he meekly let her lead him up the stairs. Sydney felt bad for him because Nigel took his embarrassments so much to heart. If it had been her, she would have just laughed it off and helped to right the tree. She had a feeling Nigel, on the other hand, would be embarrassed about it for years._

_As they reached the top of the stairs, Sydney asked, “My room or yours?”_

_“Huh?”_

_“We might as well get some work done. We've got exams in January. We could start them. It's too early to go to bed.” Then she grinned. “Unless you're Adam and Beth.”_

_Nigel smiled at this. “I'll just go get my laptop.”_

_While Sydney waited for Nigel to come to her room, she dug through her things until she found his present. She was going to wait until the next day to give it to him, but he had been so embarrassed over the tree that she changed her mind._

_“Well, here I am,” Nigel announced, opening the door, “ready to work.”_

_“All right. Set up over there.”_

_Each room in the bed and breakfast came with a small desk and chair as well as Internet access. The place was a nice blend of old fashioned hominess and technical convenience._

_He obediently went over and set his laptop on the desk. She came up behind him and dangled her hand with the present in it over his shoulder._

_He started. “What's this?”_

_“It's Christmas Eve, Nigel. What do you think it is?”_

_She shook the package. It let off of faint rattle._

_“But...”_

_She waited a moment before saying, “Aren't you going to take it?”_

_He turned around, and Sydney was suddenly surprised at how close they were. She was almost tempted to take a step back so she wouldn't be able to smell the fresh, clean scent of him or feel the heat coming from his body._

_“I can't, Syd.”_

_“Why not?”_

_He avoided looking in her eyes, shifting his gaze downward. When he realized he was staring at her chest, he colored and shifted it again to somewhere over her right shoulder._

_“I didn't...well, I didn't know we'd still be here.”_

_“And?”_

_“I left your present at home,” he said in a small voice._

_“That's all right,” she assured him. “It was just luck that yours found its way into my bag. I was going to give it to you early but changed my mind and stowed it. You can give me my present when we get home.”_

_Nigel looked at the present, then looked back into Sydney's face. “I wouldn't feel right opening this before you open yours.” He gently took the present from her fingers, a hint of a smile on his face. “Is it okay if I wait until then to open it?”_

_“That's fine,” she said, squeezing his shoulder. “Are you sure you can hold off temptation?”_

_His smile turned to a grin. “I pride myself on suppressing my instinctual urges. That includes Christmas present frenzy.”_

_“You have more will power than I do.”_

_“Somebody's got to have it in this partnership.”_

_Sydney made a face at him and went to get the notes she had put in her satchel in case they did have time to work on the exams. Looking pleased with himself, Nigel sat down to fire up the laptop._

_He had just turned the power on when the lights flickered and everything suddenly went black._

_“Syd?”_

_She could barely see his shadowy form in the moonlight that fought thick snow to shine into the room. Since she still had her satchel in her hand, she took out her flashlight and flicked it on...directly in Nigel's face._

_“Hey!” he exclaimed, throwing up his arms and closing his eyes._

_“Sorry.”_

_He rubbed his eyes. “I wonder what happened.”_

_“Maybe you blew a fuse.”_

_“Great. Another reason for Ben and Jim to love me.”_

_“Well, you're exciting to be around. I'm going to see what's going on. You stay here. The way your day is going, you'd probably fall down the stairs and break your neck.”_

_Without waiting for an answer, she left the room. She ran into Adam at the top of the stairs._

_“Do you know what's going on?”_

_She shook her head. “I was just going to find Ben.”_

_They didn't have far to look for him because he came into view as they reached the bottom of the stairs._

_“Snow on the power lines,” he said without preamble. “Probably won't be fixed before morning. All the rooms are electric heat.”_

_“What does that mean?” Sydney asked._

_“We've only got one room with a fireplace, so that means, unless you want to wake up tomorrow morning with icicles growing off your nose, we're all going to have to bunk in the living room.”_

_The room with the tree. Sydney knew Nigel would hate sharing a room with the cause of his embarrassment...but he'd hate freezing to death more._

_“Okay, I'll go get Nigel.”_

_“And I'll go get Beth.”_

_Sydney was right about Nigel not being happy with the sleeping conditions. She told him to get over it and deliberately started undressing to put on her nightclothes. Any complaining or arguing Nigel might have done was immediately cut off, and he hurried to his room to do the same._

_Before long, everyone had gathered in the room with the fireplace. The fire snapped and crackled merrily, shedding light into their dark universe. The room was large but seemed small with bedding for six people spread along the floor._

_With everyone in their pajamas, it felt almost like a pajama party to Sydney. She noted with some amusement that the inn's very different brothers wore matching blue and green striped pajamas, while Beth had chosen to cover her nightdress with a demure robe. Sydney, herself, hadn't bothered with a robe, but shrugged off the afterthought as inconsequential._

_The temperature had dropped quickly without heat, and Sydney was grateful to be in a room with fire and five other bodies. She and Nigel were placed the furthest from the tree, and she knew this certainly couldn't be coincidence. Maybe they were afraid he'd get up to pee in the middle of the night and find himself renewing his acquaintance with the tree._

_“Isn't this cozy?” Ben asked when they were all settled on the floor, most of them sitting because it was only 8:30._

_Sydney did find it cozy. Between the fire, both its warmth and its glow, the comforting sight of big flakes falling outside the window, a group of sleepy, Christmasy people, and having Nigel by her side, looking like a little boy in his pajamas with his face still streaked with tree sap, she felt more relaxed than she had since starting the hunt a week before. Nigel, on the other hand, looked quite uncomfortable to be sitting in a room with other people in his pajamas._

_“Anybody like cards?” Jim asked, getting up to take a pack from behind a picture of him and Ben as boys on the mantle. Even then, Ben had towered over his brother._

_“Sydney likes poker,” Nigel volunteered, “But she's not very good at it.”_

_“Just because I lost my clothes that time...” she started, but trailed off and shrugged as she saw the looks she was getting from around the room._

_“Poker it is!” Adam said gleefully, gaining him a sharp poke in the ribs from his wife._

XXX

“That doesn't sound so bad,” Claudia said, her eyes wide from the events of the story.

“I lost fifty dollars...and Adam snores.”

“Nigel was having a very bad day,” Sydney grinned. “I, on the other hand, won a hundred and fifty.”

Karen was still giggling. “My favorite part was when Nigel fell in the tree.”

Claudia wrinkled her nose. “I liked when Sydney walked in on him naked.”

“I was not naked!”

“Anyway, we retrieved the relic the next afternoon,” Sydney continued, “and, all in all, I thought it was a rather nice Christmas, despite working through it.”

“You're not the one who had to cut tree sap out of your hair.”

“I offered to do that for you.”

“Like I'd let you near my head with a pair of scissors when you were laughing that hard.”

“It could have been a nice look for you.” She took a hand and rubbed it over the top of his head as if feeling his brush cut.

“Let's do you first.”

“Now, children,” Karen said in an obviously false serious tone, “behave or Santa won't come.”

This caused Claudia to start giggling uncontrollably. Sydney wasn't sure if it was the comment, Karen's tone, or the fact that it was Sydney herself being chastised. She stuck her tongue out at Karen good naturedly. 

Nigel said, “Yes, Mummy.”

Karen's stern mask cracked under the pressure. She rolled her eyes and said, “Sorry, Santa, I tried.”

“You use that expression on Cory, don't you?” Sydney said suddenly.

Karen looked immediately abashed. “How did you know that?”

“It came too naturally to be something you've never said.”

“You have to have some tricks to make pre-teen boys behave.”

Sydney admired Karen. Four years before, her mother had been killed by a drunk driver. Despite being only nineteen, she didn't hesitate to take in her eight year old brother. They had no other family, so the going had been tough, but Karen never complained. Cory was the most important thing in her life.

“It works?”

“Sometimes,” Karen admitted. “Less so since he stopped believing. Now, he just laughs and hugs me. Is that any way for a twelve year old to behave?”

“Thirteen in a month, Karen,” Nigel said in imitation of the small, blond haired boy.

“Don't you start.” She wagged her finger. “It's bad enough that he actually has to turn thirteen without everyone reminding me of the fact.”

“You have a fun couple of years ahead of you,” Sydney agreed.

“Yes,” added Claudia. “I remember my teen years...sort of.”

“Thanks, guys. That really makes me feel better.”

“Any time,” Nigel said, throwing the pillow he had used earlier to hide his face at her. It hit her in the side of the head with a solid thump.

“Hey!”

“Nigel!”

“Good shot.”

The girls spoke in chorus, and Nigel knew he was in trouble. Sydney could see it in his face as she took her own pillow and thumped him over the head. At the same time, Karen flung his pillow back at him. It hit him in the face. Claudia, not having a pillow near her on the floor, picked up one of Mafdet's toy balls and threw it at Nigel's chest.

“Ugh...I surrender...” he said and Sydney thumped him again.

She thumped him one last time, saying, “You're no fun. You give in too easily.”

“There's only one of me and three of you.”

“I like those odds,” Karen said, her eyes twinkling.

Sydney's grandfather clock chimed ten, and she looked at her watch in disbelief. “Where did the evening go? What do you say we watch a movie and then head to bed?”

“ _Christmas Massacre_?” Claudia suggested.

Karen winced and put in, “How about _It's a Wonderful Life_?” 

“I kind of like _Scrooge_.”

“Why not _Miracle on 34th Street_?” Sydney asked.

The four of them argued about it for a few minutes before settling on Karen's _It's a Wonderful Life_. They all got comfortable and Sydney popped in the DVD. The room went quiet as the opening credits rolled, and Sydney let herself fall into the simple story of a man who, by being good and honest, gained as much as any sane person could ever want.


	3. Chapter 3

Sydney opened her eyes and stretched languidly. She felt warm and cozy under her thick comforter and didn't want to get up. Around her, she could hear the sounds of others stirring. There were bumps and thumps and the occasional soft squeal.

That had to be Karen and Claudia. Sydney smiled fondly, imagining the two young women up and about and eagerly getting ready for Christmas morning. She wondered idly if Nigel was awake.

The dim sun shining through her window showed that it was still early—maybe 7:30. Soft snow still drifted through it, and she was happy to see she'd have her white Christmas. She just hoped the snow wouldn't put off her father's visit.

“Do you think she's awake?” The whisper came suddenly from just outside her door.

“Who cares? We've been waiting for her for an hour and a half.”

“We can't just wake her.”

“She'll either be in a really good mood or a really evil one. Either way, it's Christmas and I want to open my presents! Daddy promised me something really special this year.”

“It's all right, you two,” Sydney called. “I'm awake.”

The door flew open and Claudia bounced in. Her face was animated by her excitement, and her blue eyes danced. 

“Mornin', Syd!” she exclaimed.

Karen stood behind her looking sheepish.

“Merry Christmas!” Sydney announced. “Where's Nigel?”

“Hogging the bathroom.”

“I am not.”

Both Claudia and Karen squeaked as Nigel came up behind them. He was still in his pajamas and his hair was sticking up with a case of pillowhead. Sydney thought he looked adorable. As a matter of fact, she thought they all looked adorable, and for a moment she felt as if she were the mother of three bubbly children.

“You're awake?” she asked him.

“It's hard to sleep when your room is next to the giggly twins.”

“Oh, Nigel, you love us and you know it,” Claudia teased, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He looked stunned, horrified, and pleased at the gesture all at the same time.

Sydney laughed and threw off her covers. “Okay, who's ready to open some presents?”

Claudia gave one little hop before rushing out of the room. Sydney could hear her bouncing down the stairs. Karen, caught up in her excitement, soon followed.

Sydney looked at Nigel and raised her eyebrows. “What? No running down the stairs to see what Santa put for you under the tree?”

“As an adult...”

“Oh, cut the crap, Nigel. I can see in your eyes that you're as excited as they are.”

He didn't smile, but she saw amusement flicker over his face. She threw one arm around his shoulder and gave him a squeeze. “Come on, now. Mommy and Daddy have to go downstairs and make sure their two little girls are behaving.”

“Claudia takes after your side of the family,” he quipped.

She chuckled and led him downstairs, only pausing to slip on her slippers by the bedroom door.

As they entered the living room, they saw that Claudia was completely under the tree with only her legs sticking out. Mafdet was sitting beside her, watching her with curiosity. Karen was also sitting on the floor. She had a present in her hand, which she was shaking with wild abandon.

“I hope that doesn't break,” Nigel commented.

“It doesn't sound breakable,” she answered seriously.

“What does it sound like?”

“Socks.”

“Socks have a sound now?” Sydney asked, dropping down between the girls and beside Mafdet.

Karen reached over and shook the present beside Sydney's ear. She listened carefully to the soft thump it made.

“Are you sure it isn't mittens?”

“Trust me, mittens sound different.”

Claudia's voice came from under the tree, so muffled that Sydney couldn't tell what she was saying.

Sydney gave a little tug on her pajamas and said, “I didn't understand a word you said.”

“I said, there's a present for the cat under here!”

“Yes,” Sydney answered solemnly, “Mafdet and I exchange gifts every year. She usually gets me a really nice, expensive outfit.”

“What do you get her?” Nigel asked, finally settling cross legged beside Sydney, causing Mafdet to give him a dirty look and move.

“Something with lots of catnip.”

“So, tonight, she'll be biting my toes as well as my fingers?”

“Oh!” Claudia exclaimed. “This one's for me!”

She wriggled backwards with a small package in her hands and spruce needles covering her pajamas and scattered in her hair. Sydney immediately recognized the wrapping as her own.

Claudia didn't even hesitate to rip off the paper. It flew up in a colorful puff. Karen stopped shaking her 'socks' to watch, and Sydney shared another glance with Nigel. 

As soon as the present was free of paper, Claudia opened the box it had covered. Sydney was unprepared for what happened less than a second later, when Claudia threw herself at her joyfully.

“Thanks, Syd! I love them!” she squealed.

The tiny blond gave Sydney a hug with more strength in her frail body than Sydney thought it could possibly hold.

“I'm glad you like them, Claudia.” Sydney had seen the earrings in a bazaar while on a hunt and knew immediately that they were the perfect gift for Claudia.

To show how much she really loved them, Claudia took them out of the box and put them on. “How do they look?”

“I think the effect is spoiled somewhat by those ridiculous pajamas,” Nigel told her.

“Nigel!” The elbow came from Karen this time. “They look great.”

“Thanks.” Claudia beamed. “For that, I think it should be your turn to open a present.”

Karen looked to Sydney and Nigel, so Sydney nodded. Karen put down the box she had been holding and asked, “Is there anything more interesting for me than socks?”

“Here.” Claudia shoved a present into her hands, somehow managing to bypass Sydney and Nigel to do so. “Open this one. It's from me.”

Karen opened the present carefully, pulling the tape off instead of ripping. Compared to Claudia, she was going at a turtle's pace, and Sydney could feel Claudia's body tense with anticipation. Her friend almost hummed with it.

It took Karen about five minutes to get the paper off and reveal the box beneath. It said Ralph Loren. Karen's eyes began to dance. The box came open much more quickly than the paper came off, showing something that made Karen gasp. 

“Claudia...you....you shouldn't have. It costs way too much.”

Claudia shrugged. “What's the good of having money if you can't spend it on your friends?”

“You barely know me.”

“I feel like we've been friends forever,” she said sincerely.

Karen took out a perfect black clutch, obviously designer, and obviously worth more than Karen could ever afford. She showed it to Sydney in a detached way, too stunned to even show how much she liked it. Sydney knew and, glancing at Claudia, she could see her friend did too.

“Your turn, Syd!” Claudia announced, not giving Karen any time to voice the protests visibly coming to her lips.

“Me?”

“Yeah,” Nigel agreed. “Go ahead, Syd.”

Sydney peered at the presents she had been tempted to feel the evening before. There were several interesting looking ones. After a moment, she decided on Karen's because it was wrapped so nicely with an attractive red bow on top. Before opening it, she took a moment to give it a good feel. Whatever was inside was squishy but firm. Sydney frowned and concentrated on trying to guess the contents.

Karen started grinning at her puzzled look, so she just shrugged. She took the bow off the top of the present and reached over to stick it on the top of Nigel's head. His eyes rolled up comically, trying to see it, but he didn't move to take it off. Sydney winked at Karen, then started on the paper.

It was quickly removed to display a practical leather satchel, new and gleaming instead of the dull, faded brown her old one had become. Sydney had only mentioned in passing that the strap was so frayed a gust of wind could snap it, and she was touched that Karen had listened and acted. The new satchel was almost identical to the old one, except for the fact that the letters SIF were embroidered along the top.

“Thanks, Karen...wait, there's something inside.”

Her fingers felt a lump in the supple leather. Puzzled, she unzipped the top and saw a book inside. She took it out and studied the cover. It had clouds and sky and the back of an envelope sealed with a heart.

“ _P.S. I Love You_ by Cecilia Ahern?”

She looked at Karen.

“I know you don't usually read chick lit, Syd, but this is my favorite book ever. You'll like it. I promise.”

Sydney decided to take her word on it. “I'll read it right after the holidays.”

“Oh,” Claudia said, “Is that the book about the woman whose husband dies and she's got to learn to live without him? I read that. It was great!”

“Two thumbs up, Syd. You can't argue with that,” Nigel told her.

“I guess not. Your turn, Nige. What are you going to open?”

“How about yours?”

“I saw that one!” Claudia said, diving back under the tree. It wobbled a bit from the abuse but stayed upright. She came out several seconds later with a small rectangular package in her hands.

Claudia handed the present to Sydney who, in turn, passed it to Nigel. At first, he looked undecided as to whether to rip it open like Claudia, open it with care like Karen, or feel it all over first like Sydney.

Claudia eyed him and said, “Well, are you going to open it, honeybun?”

At her words, Nigel tore into the paper. It fell away to reveal a first edition copy of _The Adventures of Sir Gabriel_. His mouth fell open and his wide eyes looked from the book to Sydney.

“Do you like it, Nigel? I remember you saying that you enjoyed this book.”

“This is my...my favorite book. It's nearly impossible to find a first edition. Where did you find it?”

Sydney warmed at his obvious pleasure. She smiled at him slyly. “I can't give away my sources. I prefer to retain an air of mystery.”

“Well, wherever you found it, I'm so glad you did,” he said, hugging the book to his chest.

Karen reached over and pulled gently on his ear. “Who would have thought an old book could make someone so happy?”

Nigel colored but turned his head to smile at her. “It's a first edition. Of _The Adventures of Sir Gabriel_.”

“Maybe you should have bought him a copy of _P.S. I Love You_ ,” Claudia suggested.

Nigel opened his mouth to reply, so Sydney said hastily, “Isn't it your turn again, Claudia?”

The smirk fell from the blond's face and excitement came once more to her eyes. She wasted no time in grabbing another present marked with her name.

That set the tone for the morning. They took turns opening presents with lots of oohs and aahs and even laughter when the present warranted it. Sydney didn't think she'd had a more fun Christmas since she was a little girl, and her friends seemed to be having a ball. Her trick with the bow had caught on, and soon Nigel was colored with bows of all types—red, green, blue, gold, purple, and even striped and polka dotted ones. He looked to be enjoying himself most of all, probably because of all the female attention. Sydney was planning on getting him under the mistletoe before the day was over just to see if she could embarrass him. She should have felt evil for this intention, but she didn't.

When the last present came, it was for Sydney, from Claudia. Sydney had noticed her edging it back under the tree every time it got close. For some reason, Claudia wanted her to open it last.

“Okay, Sydney, open mine now,” Claudia said, handing her the present and looking in her eyes. Sydney could tell it was important to her friend that she like the present. 

Curiously, Sydney took the gift wrapped in red paper. She turned it in her hands, causing holographic snowmen and snowflakes to flicker along it in the light from the Christmas tree. There was a matching bow, which Sydney added to Nigel's array by finding a bare space on his shoulder.

Under the paper was a nondescript box. Sydney looked at Claudia, who indicated that she should open it. With no further encouragement, she lifted the top. When she saw what was inside, she gasped and almost dropped the box.

“Are you all right, Syd?” She heard Nigel ask, as if from far away. 

Sydney gazed down at the beautiful wooden music box. It had delicate scroll work along the outside edge of the top, and a picture of a rose in full bloom was carved in the centre. Sydney reached in and traced the detail with a shaking finger.

“My mother had a music box just like this,” she whispered.

XXX

_Sydney was walking by her parents' bedroom door on the way to the bathroom and just happened to glance in on her way past. Her mother was standing in front of the big mirror above the dresser combing her almost waist length hair. There was something so beautiful in that simple gesture that Sydney had to stop and watch._

_After a moment, her mother caught Sydney's reflection watching her and smiled._

_"Hey, Syd."_

_"Hey, Mom. You look great."_

_Rosemarie Fox turned, her eyes and face bright. "Do you think so?"_

_Sydney always thought her mother looked like an angel with her hair as dark as night and her delicate features. She looked especially pretty that evening as she had dressed in a black evening dress that showed her shoulders and hugged her body. Sparkling jewelry adorned her ears and throat. Dressed up, she looked like a princess._

_At nine, Sydney was small for her age, darkly tanned, and wild. She had a half healed scrape on her chin from a tumble out of a tree and there was a rip in her jeans from a daring stunt on her bicycle. She knew that, compared to her mother, she looked like an ugly runt._

_Even so, there was no jealousy in her voice as she said, "Dad is going to love that on you."_

_Randall and Rosemarie were going out for their tenth anniversary, and she knew her mother wanted to look just right._

_"Thank you, Sweetie."_

_Rosemarie went to Sydney and cupped the child's face in her hand. She gave her daughter a gentle kiss on the forehead before smoothing dark hair from her eyes._

_Regarding her seriously, she said, “I can't seem to get my hair the way I want it in the back. Will you comb it for me?"_

_To Sydney, it looked smooth and perfect, but she said eagerly, "Sure!"_

_Her mother handed her the brush and settled beside Sydney on the bed._

_Sydney started by running her fingers through the soft hair in front of her. It smelled like lavender and felt like silk. She hoped someday her short, messy mop would look, feel, and smell as nice, and if her own daughter ever wanted to brush it, Sydney would always let her._

_As Sydney moved to begin brushing, a noise by her hip caught her attention. She looked down and saw her mother's music box. It was small and beautiful, with a special drawer for jewelry, and it played the sweetest song if you opened the top. Sydney had always loved it._

_She picked up the box and gently moved it farther across the bed so she wouldn't accidentally sit on it. Then, she lifted the top and let its sweet and simple melody fill the room._

_Feeling happy and content, Sydney began to brush Rosemarie's hair, proud that she would be entrusted with the important task of helping to prepare her mother for that very special evening._

XXX

“Wow, really?” Claudia asked, dragging Sydney's mind from the past. “And you laughed when I said I used Tarot cards for important decisions."

Sydney spared her a questioning look before taking the music box from its wrappings. “Where did you find it?”

“In a little antiques shop. I knew you'd love it. Then, when the cards told me to go ahead and buy it...”

“Thank you so much, Claudia.”

It was Sydney's turn to pull Claudia close and hold her. She felt tears prickle her eyelids and a tightness in her chest. Sometimes she missed her mother so much that it physically hurt and now, thanks to Claudia's gift, coincidental or not, all she had to do was open the box and be taken back to a time when her mother was as close as a touch away.

Dying to know if it played the same song, she released Claudia and opened the top with shaking fingers. The soft tones of “You are my Sunshine” filled the air. Sydney's held back tears came dangerously close to falling.

She immediately felt Nigel's hand on her shoulder and threw him a wobbly smile to let him know she was okay. He still looked sweetly concerned, so she closed the lid and swallowed hard.

“Well, it looks like we've got quite a mess to clean up.” Her voice sounded almost normal.

Both Karen and Claudia looked around, their eyes going wide at the amount of mess they had caused in such a short while. Nigel, however, was not so easily deflected, and the hand on her shoulder gave a squeeze before letting go.

“We should probably clean this up,” Karen said after taking it all in. She reached to scoop up some of the paper but withdrew with a small cry as it erupted under her hand and a black ball shot out into the air. The demon cat spun on the top layer of paper before disappearing among the wreckage once more. Karen hadn't been the only one to jump, and Sydney found herself laughing away her tears at the look on Nigel's face.

She got to her feet. “Wait here. I'll go get a garbage bag.”

After they had cleaned up the mess, with Karen insisting on vacuuming the floor, they just relaxed and looked at their gifts. Besides the music box, Sydney's favorites were Karen's, the Egyptian themed picture frame, which included a picture of the two of them smiling, that she got from Nigel, the outfit she had bought for herself from Mafdet, and the green sweater she got from Katy.

It was during this quiet time that Cory called for Karen, so Claudia took the opportunity to call her parents on her cell phone. Nigel couldn't make up his mind whether to call Preston or not.

Sydney watched him agonize over it for a few minutes before she reminded, “Nigel, it's Christmas.”

He grimaced but nodded, as she knew he would. Sydney herself was planning to call her father soon, now that it was almost a decent hour. She couldn't wait to talk to him, and she wanted to know how his Christmas with Jenny's folks had gone. In the beginning, they had been as resistant to the relationship as Sydney herself—after all, he was their age and not quite what they had pictured for their young daughter—but Randall's charming ways had soon won them over. Sydney was sure he could charm a bear into giving up her cub.

Since Karen was on the main line, Sydney—like Nigel—took out her cell phone. She dialed eagerly, a smile already on her face.

“Hello?” a woman's voice asked. It was a nice voice.

“Hi. This is Sydney. Is my dad there?”

“Yes, dear. Let me go find him.”

As Sydney waited, she watched Karen, who was the only one left in the room with her, talk animately with Cory. It seemed strange to hear her secretary asking quite seriously whether he had worn his sweater and whether he had eaten too much chocolate.

_No wonder she takes such good care of us,_ Sydney thought.

It didn't take long for her father to get to the phone. He sounded out of breath and excited as he said, “Merry Christmas, Scoochie.”

“Merry Christmas, Dad. How are the in-laws treating you?”

“Like gold. They're good people.”

Sydney had no doubts on this because of the way they had accepted her father. “Thank you for the new flashlight. Very practical. And thank you for the necklace. Not so practical, but beautiful.”

“I'm glad you like it...What? Oh...Jenny says thanks for the robe. She loves it. And thanks from me for the tools.”

Sydney was tempted to laugh from just the sheer amount of thank yous flying back and forth. “Are you still planning on getting out today?”

“Sure. Should be sometime around seven.”

“It's too bad you couldn't stop for dinner.”

He audibly paused before saying, “You're cooking Christmas dinner?”

“One burnt turkey. I was twelve.”

“And it was very delicious.”

“Dad!” Sydney laughed.

“I ate every bite, didn't I?”

To this day, Sydney had no idea how. “Yeah, well, don't worry. Karen's supervising the food this year. She cooks like a dynamo.”

“Then save me some turkey.”

“I'll try, but I do have Nigel and Claudia here.”

“Isn't Claudia a vegetarian?”

“Yes, but apparently, turkey doesn't count.”

Randall laughed then said, “Oh, I've got to go. We'll see you at seven.”

“See you, Dad. Give my love to Jenny.”

It seemed strange to be saying that after how shocked and angry Sydney had been on her first meeting with her father's tiny young wife. Jenny had grown on Sydney after that, though, especially when she found out exactly how much Jenny loved Randall. You couldn't always help who you fell in love with. Now, despite the fact that Jenny was her step mother, Sydney regarded her as a younger sister and was starting to love her as such.

“Will do. Talk to you soon.”

Sydney felt extremely happy after talking to her father. Claudia's music box had made her melancholy because she missed her mother at Christmas more than other times during the year. Christmases had been special in the Fox household, especially before Rosemarie's death, and many of Sydney's favorite memories were of those times.

The others were soon off of the phones, and even Nigel seemed pleased to have spoken to family on Christmas. They headed up the stairs to get ready to face the day. Sydney planned on wearing her new green sweater, but not until after they finished getting the turkey on, so she dressed in her hunting clothes and tied her hair back in a ponytail. 

She met Claudia and Karen in the hallway. They were once more chuckling over something and Sydney didn't bother to ask what. Their relationship already seemed to consist of as many in jokes as hers with Nigel, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know what any of them were.

“Okay, Karen, here I am, ready to work. Where's Nigel?”

“I sent him down to wash the turkey.”

“Does he know how to wash a turkey?”

“What's he going to do? Use dish soap?”

Claudia looked puzzled. “You don't use dish soap?”

Karen's eyes snapped to her for a second before she took off down the stairs calling, “Nigel!”

Sydney raised an eyebrow at Claudia, who gave her a wicked grin.

As they started down the stairs, more slowly than Karen, Claudia said, “I'm really glad you asked me here, Syd. I was not looking forward to spending Christmas alone. It's been really fun.”

“You and Karen seem to be getting on well.”

“I think we could be best friends if we lived closer, even though we're so different. For one thing, she's just too nice.”

Sydney frowned. “What's wrong with being nice?”

“People take advantage of you.”

Karen met them at the bottom of the stairs looking relieved. “It's all right. He didn't use soap.”

Nigel came up behind her asking, “How bloody stupid do you think I am, anyway?”

“Did you get the turkey all washed, Nigel?” Claudia asked innocently.

“Yes,” he said with a scowl, “ and I found a present for you inside.”

“A present?”

“Come to the kitchen, and I'll give it to you.”

“No, thanks. I don't think I want any present that came out of a turkey's butt.”

“It came with its own gift bag and everything.”

“Some people think of those as delicacies, you know,” Sydney commented.

“Do I want to know what they're talking about?” Claudia asked Karen.

“No. Definitely not.”

“You know,” Sydney continued, “The first time I cooked a turkey, I had no idea they were in there...I found them after I rescued my very scorched turkey from the oven.”

Karen laughed. “Been there. Done that.”

“You, Karen?” Nigel asked in surprise.

“I couldn't always cook Nigel. Everyone's got to start somewhere.”

They reached the kitchen at that point. Nigel pushed into the room first and grabbed something off of the counter. He brought it to the three women and showed Claudia.

“Your present,” he said cheekily.

“Oh, gross! Nigel, what is that?”

“Turkey innards.”

“Eww! Sydney!”

“Nigel, throw those away.”

He tried to look chastised, but Sydney could see the evil glint in his eyes. He did go to the green bin and dump the mess inside, after opening the bag they were in.

Claudia said, “I could have lived my whole life without seeing that.”

Karen flicked her arm. “Don't be such a wuss.”

“Hey, you're supposed to be on my side.”

“Children, children,” Sydney said, feeling like a clucking mother hen.

Karen's face turned serious and she went immediately from young, flirty secretary to dependable mother of a twelve year old child. 

“Nigel, please set the oven to 350.” He hurried over to do her bidding as she continued, “Sydney, we'll need the onions and bread we bought yesterday. We'll also need margarine, chicken spice, salt, and pepper. We'll get the turkey ready and stuffed. Then we should have an hour or two before we need to peel vegetables.”

“What about the cranberry sauce?” Claudia asked.

“We'll make that as soon as our turkey's in the oven. It's got to have time to cool before we can eat it.”

The three assistant cooks hurried around the kitchen to do Karen's bidding. To Sydney, it felt funny to relinquish control, but she knew it was for the best. Any other time she had tried to make a turkey, it had ended in disaster—at least for her tastebuds.

“Nigel, where's the turkey?”

“In the sink.”

“Bring it here, and we'll put it in the roaster.”

Karen bent down to root through the cupboard as Sydney emerged from the fridge with an armful of onions and a block of margarine in her hand. Nigel picked the turkey up from the sink and turned to walk towards Karen. As if in slow motion, Sydney saw his hands moving, clutching at the bird. With her hands full, there was nothing she could do as she watched him try in vain to keep a grip on the slippery carcass.

“Nigel!” Claudia exclaimed as he lost the fight and the turkey slid from his hands to land on the kitchen floor, bouncing once before settling near his slippered foot.

“Oops,” he whispered, his face horrified. “I'm so sorry.”

“Oh, don't worry about it,” Karen replied, coming over and expertly scooping up the errant bird. “It happens. It washed once. It'll wash again. Claudia, could you start toasting bread, please? A lot of people make their stuffing from dry bread, but I like it toasted.”

“Okay.”

“Sydney, could you start chopping some onions? Nigel, you can help her.”

“Sure.” Sydney could handle chopping—when she wasn't showing off by trying to twirl the knife in the air. She was still embarrassed about the way she cut herself while attending La Cordon Rouge. 

Karen plunked the turkey in the sink and started scrubbing with vigor. It would be lucky to still have its skin when she got through, Sydney thought.

“You know,” Karen said conversationally as they worked, “I had a friend who invited me for dinner one time. Since there was only the two of us, but she wanted it to be a turkey-like dinner—it was Thanksgiving—she decided to get something smaller, like a chicken. She didn't have a lot of money at the time...Claudia, I think your toast is burning...so she looked for the cheapest hen she could find. That turned out to be this small stewing hen. I don't know if you guys have ever had a stewing hen, but...well, she cooked that sucker for five hours. The stuffing was scorched, so she was afraid to leave it in any longer. The legs wouldn't come off. That was our first indication that something was wrong. Usually, if it's done right, the meat should fall off the bone. We couldn't even cut the meat off the bone! That was the toughest thing I ever tried to eat. We chewed and chewed until our jaws were tired. It was like rubber. Ugh. It was pretty funny, though, to watch each other's faces as we tried to eat it.”

“Kind of like Dad and that poor first turkey I made—burnt on the outside, raw on the inside, with the 'present' still inside.”

“You guys all have funny turkey stories,” Claudia said wistfully. “Ours was always catered.”

“I don't,” Nigel admitted. “Our cook made our Christmas dinner. It was perfect, like everything else she made.”

“No one's perfect all the time,” Karen argued, coming over to show Sydney and Claudia and Nigel how to mix the stuffing before going over to sprinkle the turkey with chicken spice.

Their only other mishaps occurred when Claudia burned four pieces of toast so black that they set off the smoke detector and when Sydney dropped the mixing bowl with their half-made stuffing. Cheerfully, they started over, and eventually got it in the turkey and the turkey in the oven. Then, they started the cranberry sauce. Sydney had never seen it made before and was surprised at how much went into it. She suggested that they should have bought canned, but Karen waved this off.

Afterwards, they emerged from the kitchen messy and tired but triumphant.

“Now, we rest,” Karen said, “but don't go too far. In an hour and a half, I need my little worker bees to start peeling and chopping vegetables.”

The other three groaned in unison. Sydney had cranberry sauce down the front of her vest and was glad she had decided not to wear her new sweater until later. Despite that, and despite her groan, she had actually had a lot of fun cooking with her friends. She didn't know if she'd feel the same way after their second go round.

“So, what do we do in the meantime?” Claudia asked.

They ended up playing a board game. Someone had given Claudia a pop culture edition of Trivial Pursuit, and she wanted to try it out. Sydney knew that this was the one edition of the game where they all had a pretty even chance, so she agreed.

The afternoon passed quickly,and the meal came out even better than Sydney had hoped. All of them ate more than they should, especially Claudia, who was so rail thin that Sydney didn't know where she put it all.

After dinner, they went to the living room to relax and let their dinner settle while they waited for Randall and Jenny. Sydney put on her new top, and Nigel told her the green was very fetching. He looked so cute when he said it that she was even more determined to catch him under the mistletoe. So far, none of them had been able to do it, but she caught Karen and Claudia both throwing him mischievous looks.

Sydney got to fulfill her wish early in the evening. Claudia was modeling her new earrings and necklace she had gotten from her parents. Karen was oohing and ahhing and comparing them with the less expensive but finely delicate bracelet she had received from her most recent admirer. Bored, Nigel got up to get another piece of cake, despite the sheer volume of food he had consumed just a few hours earlier.

“Surely, you can't be hungry again?” Sydney asked.

“Just craving something sweet.”

Sydney had a feeling he really meant 'just have to get away from all this estrogen'. She got up to follow him to the kitchen.

“I feel the need for some tea,” she answered his unspoken question. There was no way she could eat another bite. “Do you two want anything?”

“No thanks, Syd,” Claudia answered absently.

Karen threw her a grin and shook her head. The secretary was no doubt amused that her boss had offered to serve her for a change. Sydney would never tell Karen, but she thought it was time her friend had someone to look after her. After all, Sydney herself had Nigel and Karen, even though it falsely seemed as if she had only herself to rely on. Karen, on the other hand, was always worrying about someone else.

She thought about mentioning this to Nigel as they approached the kitchen, but it fell out of her head as she saw him stop in the doorway and turn to speak to her.

She looked at Nigel, then she looked at the door frame above his head. Her eyes lowered once more, and she felt a smile begin to spread over her face.

The words died on Nigel's lips as he saw the completely wicked look she was giving him. She went up to him and gripped his shoulders.

“Look up, Nigel.”

Slowly, as if expecting a dangling spider, his eyes turned upward. They widened slightly as they took in something infinitely more dangerous. When Sydney was sure he had a good look, she waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“Pucker up.”

“Sydney, I don't think...”

“Are you refuting the power of the mistletoe?”

He just looked at her helplessly. When he didn't protest any further, she leaned in and gently pressed her lips to his. His lips were warm and soft, and he smelled so good that Sydney was tempted to prolong the kiss. Knowing she had tortured Nigel enough, however, she pulled away after just a couple of seconds.

Her friend's face was flushed and he didn't meet her eyes, so she reached up and pinched his cheek.

“That wasn't so bad, was it?”

“Not so bad...No,” he mumbled before turning and walking smack into the door frame.

He threw an embarrassed look at her over his shoulder and rubbed his chest before wordlessly going into the kitchen.

Sydney winced, hoping he hadn't hurt himself. It was a nice kiss, and she felt somewhat like smacking into a door frame herself. Maybe she should find reasons to kiss Nigel more often.

With that happy thought in her head, she followed Nigel into the kitchen to make her tea. She found herself humming a Christmas song as she went over to plug in the kettle.

“Are you sure you don't want some cake, Syd?” Nigel asked after he cut himself a slice.

“Do you want me to explode, Nigel?”

He smiled. “Now that could be interesting.”

Sydney's reply was cut off by the whistling of the kettle, so she just stuck out her tongue and went to unplug it. As she did so, the doorbell sounded, and she completely forgot her desire for tea.

“That's Dad!”

She hurried from the room and down the hallway to the front door with Nigel close behind, his plate in his hand. She flung the door open and threw herself at the very tall man on the other side.

“Merry Christmas, Dad!” she exclaimed, squeezing him tightly.

Her father wrapped his arms around her, squeezing just as hard. He was such a large man that Sydney still felt like a child in his embrace. His hug brought her completely off the floor where she dangled for just a few seconds before he set her down.

“I told you I'd make it,” he said.

“I'm so glad you did.”

Sydney knew her face was beaming, and she didn't try to hide the happiness bubbling up through her. She turned from her father to the buxom but diminutive woman standing slightly behind him, her hair sprinkled with snowflakes.

“Hey, Jenny.”

“Hey, Sydney.” Jenny's voice was soft and slightly lilting.

“Come in out of the cold.”

They did so gratefully. Sydney introduced Karen to them and Claudia to Jenny when the two came curiously to see who was at the door.

“Gee, Syd, your Dad is tall,” Karen said, craning her neck as she shook his hand.

“Really?” she said teasingly, “I never noticed.”

“Don't pick on the girl, Scoochie. Did you save me any turkey?”

“Randall,” Jenny admonished. “You just had a big turkey dinner two hours ago.”

“It takes a lot of fuel to keep a body like this going.” He then clapped Nigel firmly on the shoulder—so firmly, Nigel stumbled. “Hey, Nige. How are you?”

“Fine, sir.”

“Have you found the courage to ask my daughter out yet?”

Flames went over Nigel's face as Sydney cried, “Dad!”

Her father seemed to get a special kick from lightly teasing Nigel.

“Sorry, can't hear you over the rumbling in my stomach.”

Sydney rolled her eyes. “I'll get you some turkey. It turned out great. Then, I want to show you what Claudia got me for Christmas. Do you want anything, Jenny?”

“Diet soda, if you've got some.”

“Diet Sprite all right?”

“Sure.”

“Do we get a tour of this new house of yours?” Randall asked.

“I thought you wanted turkey.”

“Right. Turkey first. Tour later.”

Sydney led the two of them to the dining room. She left Nigel there, with his cake, to entertain them while she went to prepare a plate and get Jenny some Diet Sprite.

Nigel didn't have to entertain alone because Sydney soon heard Claudia's high pitched voice telling a totally insane story and Karen interjecting periodic humourous comments. In fact, it didn't sound like Nigel had to worry about saying anything at all.

Sydney couldn't wait to show her father the music box. She wondered if he'd remember that her mother had one just like it and whether it was as special to him as it was to her. There were so many good memories of her mother wrapped up in the box. 

It had been so long since Rosemarie's death that sometimes Sydney forgot her face or the way she smelled or the way her voice always sounded as if she were about to sing, but when Sydney opened the music box, she could see her mother as clearly as if they had shared their last hug yesterday.

Sydney paused in her work and closed her eyes. Leaning against the counter, she let another memory grab her. It was soft and sweet, and the power of it made her lips tremble. Once again, her mother seemed real enough to touch.

XXX

_Sydney lay in her bed, her eyes wide open and her hands clutching the blankets. She had been trying to sleep for hours, but that was hard when she couldn't even close her eyes. Anticipation tingled through every nerve of her small body. She wanted to get up and twirl around and around until she was so dizzy that she fell over. Still, that would mean getting out of bed, and the elves were everywhere. They saw everything._

_She heard her mom and dad talking as they moved down the hallway to pass her open bedroom door. Mom looked in so Sydney squished her eyes closed tight so the fact that she was not asleep wouldn't be noticed._

_Her mother, however, stopped and came into the room. “Aren't you asleep yet, Sweetie?”_

_Sydney sighed and opened her eyes. “I can't sleep. I'm too excited.”_

_Instead of saying, 'If you don't sleep, Santa won't come,' as her father would have, Mom leaned down and smoothed a hand over her forehead as she said, “Christmas is an exciting time. I had trouble myself sleeping on Christmas Eve when I was your age.”_

_“How did you stand it?” Sydney asked, wriggling with impatience._

_Mom sat on the edge of her bed, so Sydney moved to give her room. “Well, whenever I was eager or anxious or scared, my mom used to sit with me. And do you know what she'd do?”_

_Sydney turned on her side and snuggled against her mother's leg, putting her cheek on her mother's thigh. Mom soothingly began to stroke her hair, wiping away the knot of excitement eating away at the little girl's belly._

_“No, what?” Sydney asked, already starting to feel sleepy._

_“She would sing to me. Would you like me to sing you the song she sang?”_

_She nodded. “Yes, please.”_

_Without any further prodding, Mom started to sing softly. Sydney let the song lull her, and felt her eyes fluttering closed. Her mother's voice seemed to fill her, making everything go away except the gentle comfort it offered. Sleep and dreams called to her, and she slowly drifted towards them. Smiling slightly, she sighed and gave in, letting them claim her. In the moment between awareness and sleep, she felt completely safe and completely loved, and then she knew no more until morning._


	4. Chapter 4

Sydney chose a moment when she and her father were alone to show him the music box. Nigel was in the washroom, and Karen and Claudia had dragged Jenny up to their bedroom to show her some outfit or shoes or something.

She waited until their girlish chatter disappeared up the stairs before picking the box up from under the tree and going to her father. He was sitting in the big armchair, so she propped herself on the arm.

“Dad, I want to show you something.”

At her serious tone, he looked at her with questions in his eyes. She turned to meet them before silently handing him the music box.

He took it gently, running his long fingers over the smooth wood and tracing the detail as Sydney had done herself. After a moment of studying it, he opened the top and the familiar melody surrounded them, saying so much more than words.

“Sydney, where...where did you get this?”

“It was a gift from Claudia. I couldn't believe it. Mom had one like this. Do you remember?”

“Your mother didn't have one like this. This was your mother's.”

“Was my...Dad, are you sure? How can you tell?”

He turned it over, his hands shaking slightly. On the bottom was an inscription that Sydney had never noticed. It said,

_“R,  
With this box, I give you both the gift of music and my love. Carry them both with you always,  
Maman”_

She gasped. “It was a gift from Isabelle?”

“Your mother loved this music box. When she passed away, she wanted her best friend to have it...”

“Laura.” Sydney pulled the name from deep in her memory. The face that went with it was blurry, and all she could remember was lots of red hair and freckles. 

“Yes. I heard she passed herself a few years ago.”

He handed the box back to Sydney, his expression tinged with grief. It was plain that no matter how much he loved Jenny, his first wife still had a place in his heart. She was glad that Jenny was the type of girl who could accept that.

She was still feeling stunned about the news that her music box was the one from her memories and dreams when Nigel came into the room a few seconds later. He must have read her face, because he stopped short and looked from Sydney to Randall and back again.

“Is everything okay?”

Sydney smoothed her features. “I showed him the music box.”

She wanted to tell Nigel everything, but she didn't want her father to know how confused and emotional she was suddenly feeling. She pushed everything to the back of her mind, promising herself that she would talk it out with him later.

Randall and Jenny left soon after that because they had a long drive back to her parents' house. Sydney hugged her father fiercely and missed him before she even released him. Because they lived so far apart and both had hectic jobs, they rarely got to see each other. He kissed her briefly, shook Nigel's hand, waved to Claudia and Karen, and then he and Jenny were gone. Sydney felt strangely bereft as she closed the door behind them.

With the closing of the door came a cold blast of air. Sydney shivered and hugged herself, glad she was wearing her new green sweater instead of the vest she'd worn while preparing dinner.

Nigel reached out and rubbed her arm absently, as if unaware he was doing it. “Cold?”

She nodded.

“I thought you liked snow,” Karen teased.

“Outside...when I'm dressed warmly...and I have a warm bath to look forward to...”

“Let's retire to the living room,” Nigel suggested. “It's nice and cozy in there.”

Sydney was all for getting warm, so she nodded again. As she passed by Claudia and Karen on her way, she heard a whispered exchange that made her smile.

“Have you caught him yet?”

“No, he's being very careful.”

“I came close, but he moved seconds before I could get him.”

Sydney knew exactly what they were talking about. She decided not to tell them that she had caught him...and that she'd be looking for her opportunity to catch him again.

When Claudia saw Sydney's music box and noted that it had moved, she asked, “Did you show it to him, Syd?”

She didn't have to ask what. Her father's words were still ringing in her ears.

“I did.”

“Did he remember...?”

Sydney eyed her friends for a moment before deciding to tell them everything. “Claudia, what exactly made you buy the box?”

“I don't know,” she admitted. “When I saw it, I thought of you. And then the cards told me it was meant for you. Why?”

“Because the box isn't like the one my mother had. It actually belonged to her.”

The other three were stunned, even Claudia, who usually took such coincidences in stride. Sydney could see it in their faces as they traded glances around the room.

“What?” Nigel asked eventually. “How do you know?”

“My father showed me an inscription I didn't even know was there. It was from my grandmother.” Sydney felt an unexpected lump come to her throat.

“Wow!” Claudia whispered. “That's amazing.”

Karen was more practical. “Sydney, are you okay?”

She took a deep breath. “Yeah. It was just a shock.”

Nigel's hand was suddenly on her shoulder again. He remained silent, but she felt his support. She knew at that moment that telling them had been the right thing to do.

“The music box was one of my favorite things belonging to my mother. I never knew what happened to it after she died. I can't believe you found it after all this time.”

“It was meant to be,” Claudia said firmly in that deadly serious mystic voice she got sometimes.

“It's so odd,” Sydney continued, going over to pick up the music box once more.

Nigel came over to have a better look at it himself. “It's very beautiful.”

“Yes. When I was a little girl, I used to help my mother when she was getting ready to go out. She kept her favorite jewelry in here. She'd open the top to take them out and just leave it open so we could listen to the melody. I never knew she was remembering her own mother when she did so.”

“I remember,” Nigel said softly, “that my mother always came to tuck me in. Every night, she would come in, pull the covers up around me, and gently kiss my forehead. When she died, that was what I missed the most. Preston never understood because he was always asleep, but I purposefully stayed awake just so I could have that special moment...”

He trailed off and flushed as he noticed all three women looking at him. Nigel rarely talked about his mother, and Sydney felt suddenly as if he were giving her a precious gift. 

“Losing a parent is hard,” Karen agreed, her voice cracking. For her, the wound of her mother's passing was still fresh.

Claudia still had both parents, but she looked as if she were closer to tears than the other three. She bit her lip and her eyes were on the floor. Her fair skin was paler than usual, with just a faint tinge of pink along the cheekbones.

“Well,” Sydney said crisply, going over to the mantle to put the box in front of the Santa she had put there the day before. “That's enough sadness. This is Christmas day. Who's up for building a snowman?”

Claudia burst into laughter as Nigel exclaimed, “It's bloody dark outside!”

“Are you afraid of the dark, Nigel?”

“It's freezing.”

“I've got mittens.”

“It's almost nine o'clock.”

“Santa came last night. We can stay up as late as we want.”

“Come on, honeybun.” Claudia smacked him lightly on the back of the head. “Don't be such a fuddy-duddy.”

Karen reached over and rubbed the place Claudia had just smacked. “It'll be fun, Nigel.”

He looked at the three women as if they were crazy. After a moment, he sighed. “All right, let's bundle up.”

Sydney felt a grin spread over her face. It had been years since she made a snowman, and anticipation tingled through her. Sometimes being the eldest of this group made her feel motherly, but tonight she wanted to jump right in and be zany along with them. She especially wanted to prod Nigel into it because he was way too serious for someone so young.

They had a blast—even Nigel was flushed, glowing, and laughing when they came in an hour later, completely exhausted and soaked to the skin.

Sydney hadn't realized she was cold until the warm air from her entryway hit her.

“Close the door! Close the door!” Claudia squealed at Karen, who was behind her.

“I'm trying. Move, Nigel.”

Nigel was standing beside Claudia but, at Karen's words, he quickly moved, bumping into Sydney, who was taking off her boots.

“Oomph,” she said, almost falling over. The only thing that saved her from doing a face plant was Nigel, who had one mitten off, grabbing her by the belt loop.

“Sorry, Syd.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Claudia added. “But at least we got the door closed. I feel like a Claudia-sicle.”

“I'm with you on the sicle thing,” Karen agreed, shedding snow like it was a second skin.

Sydney finished taking off her boots, realized her socks were sopping, and discarded them as well. “I think we all need a towel, warm jammies, and more hot chocolate.”

No one argued as they stripped off their outer clothes. Sydney considered stripping down to her underwear, but settled on her jeans and sweater like the others. They then made a dash for the stairs, the tile floor as cold as their socks had been on their bare feet.

Sydney found them all towels, and they disappeared into their rooms to dry off and change. Sydney was so chilled that she dug out the biggest, fuzziest nightdress she owned. She called it her 'cozy nightdress', and usually only wore it on the coldest nights or when she was in need of comfort. It was a dingy grey-blue color, and she had owned it for years. The sleeves came right down to her wrists, and the nightdress brushed the tops of her feet, which she had slipped into slippers the moment she entered.

She was combing her still slightly dripping hair after changing when there was a knock on her door.

“Come in.”

Nigel entered, dressed in his navy blue silk pajamas with his hair sticking up from being vigorously rubbed with a towel. 

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey.” He came towards her, concern in his eyes. “Sydney, are you really okay? You had quite a shock today. Granted, it was a nice shock, but a shock all the same.”

Sydney stopped combing and looked at him for a moment. Was she okay? She had made peace with her mother's memory when she was a teenager, but seeing the music box had brought back some of the pain. It had brought back some of the memories as well, and that's what her heart had embraced. They were worth the pain.

“I miss her.”

“I understand.”

She smiled softly. He smiled back.

“Hey, what's going on in here?”

Claudia's voice made both of them jump.

“Nigel was just offering to brush my hair,” Sydney said flippantly, brandishing the hairbrush.

Claudia eyed him in appraisal. “Is that so?”

Nigel stepped back from Sydney as if she were on fire. “No...No, of course not.”

“He said he wanted to braid it with bright pink bows,” Sydney added.

Claudia clicked her tongue. “I thought you had better taste.”

“I do!” he exclaimed, then hastily continued. “If I were going to brush Sydney's hair...which I'm not because...well, she can brush her own hair, can't she?”

Sydney didn't reply. She just finished combing her hair and pulled it up into a ponytail. Then, the three of them headed downstairs and to the kitchen. Karen was already there, plugging in the kettle.

“Where've you been?” she asked.

“Nigel had to brush Syd's hair,” Claudia told her.

A strange expression went over Karen's face. “What?”

“She's kidding,” Nigel said grumpily. “I'm not known for randomly brushing women's hair.”

“It would be a great way to get dates.”

“Very funny, Claudia.”

Sydney listened to them bicker absently, her mind still on her mother's music box. For some reason, it called to her, as if there were something it needed to say. 

Soon, the kettle was whistling and she pushed all thoughts out of her head but ones of sitting with her friends, sipping hot chocolate, and enjoying their Christmas evening together.

XXX

She was tall and blond, with sparkling green eyes and a loving smile. Her arms were soft and meant comfort when a big brother was just a little too rough. Her voice was sweet and knew just what to say to turn tears into laughter.

He dreamed of her that night, of her warm embrace and her tender kiss. She was so real that he could feel her hand on his brow and see the worried concern on her face.

He hadn't dreamed of her for a very long time; he hadn't spoken of her in even longer, but she was always there, in his heart and in his mind. Sometimes, her voice was just a whisper in the darkness, but he could always hear it. She had always meant comfort and safety to him, and he had not felt it again after she left him—not until he met Sydney.

It must have been the music box. He had no other explanation. They had spoken of mothers and of loss, so his own mother had come to him as she had so many times in the years just following her passing.

The dream was a good one and, despite her concern, she spoke to him as an adult. She told him she loved him and that she missed him. And then, she had said something so strange. She told him to watch over Sydney.

“I always do,” he said in puzzlement, waiting for her explanation. None come, however, because he was suddenly jolted from sleep by a voice calling his name.

“Nigel...Nigel! Come on, Nigel. Wake up!”

He swam towards awareness—he had to, the voice was so insistent. The bed wiggled under him as if alive, and he groaned.

“What?”

“Nigel, are you awake?”

He knew the voice. The realization brought full awareness back to him in surprising suddenness.

“Syd?”

He blinked his eyes open to see her shadowed face just inches from his own. Nigel jumped at her nearness, smacking his head on the headboard. The crack drove away the silence in the room. It also drove away the last of his sleep.

“What time is is?” he asked, rubbing the back of his head.

“Around five,” she whispered. “I couldn't sleep.”

“Couldn't you not be sleeping alone?”

“No, Nigel. You don't understand. Push over.”

Without protest, he slipped over as far as he could in the small bed. Sydney slipped in beside him, so close that their sides touched. The bed was so narrow that if they weren't so close, there was danger of one of them falling on the floor. Her body was warm and soft and distracting enough that he didn't hear her next words.

After a moment, she said, “Nigel, are you listening to me?”

“Not awake yet, Syd,” he mumbled.

“I said I found a secret compartment in my mother's music box.”

“A secret compartment?”

“Yes.”

She turned on the lamp by the bed, causing light to stab into his eyes.

“Ow! Syd, couldn't this have waited until morning?”

She ignored this. “There were things in it Nigel! My mother's secret things. I couldn't believe it. Her friend had the music box all this time and hadn't found them.”

By now, Nigel had blinked the tears away and could see Sydney in the lamp's pale glow. Her dark eyes were shining with excitement, and her hair was still mussed from her pillow. She looked extremely exotic, and Nigel felt himself inexplicably blushing. 

“Things?” he asked, covering, “What kind of things?”

“A letter from my aunt and...well, I'll have to show you. But they can wait until you get up. I just needed to tell someone. There's a mystery here, and I think we can solve it.”

“A mystery?”

“It's been waiting for me. Claudia was right. Her finding the music box was no coincidence. Fate was just waiting for it to be time for me to get involved. It was meant to be. I just know it.”

“You haven't said what kind of mystery.”

“That'll wait three or four hours.” She took his chin in her hand. “You look tired. I think you need more sleep.”

“I look tired because it's five in the morning. We _both_ need some sleep.”

“You're right,” she said, reaching over and clicking the light. “Now that I've told someone, maybe I'll be able to sleep. See you in a couple of hours.”

That's when he realized she had no intention of moving. He had half a mind to kick her out or scold her, but settled back down to sleep instead.

“You know, if you're going to start doing this, your guest rooms will need doubles instead of twins.”

There was no answer.

“Sydney?...Syd?”

Her only reply was a barely audible snore. Nigel sighed and rolled away from her, trying to touch her as little as possible. It took only minutes for him to follow her to dreamland.

XXX

Sydney sighed and snuggled closer to the body she was wrapped around. It was warm in the cold morning air and smelled clean and familiar. She buried her face into the shoulder and tightened her arm about the waist.

As sleep slowly receded, memories slowly returned. With them came the knowledge of just who exactly she was cuddling up to. Guiltily, she released him, though her body protested.

The sun was up now, and Sydney blinked sleepily in its rays. She yawned and studied the back of Nigel as he continued to sleep. She was tempted to curl herself around him again and join him. Gently, she reached over and ran the backs of her fingers over his cheek.

Only one thought made her fight the temptation-- Claudia and Karen. What would their reaction be to finding Sydney and Nigel in bed together, no matter how innocent it was? Sydney could imagine the scene. Claudia would tease them mercilessly for the next two days, and Karen would be unavoidably hurt. Sydney knew Karen had a crush on Nigel that waxed and waned but remained strong. Karen could accept a relationship between Sydney and Nigel, if there ever were one, but the dissolution of her fantasy could be painful. To save Nigel humiliation and Karen pain, Sydney slipped out of bed and hurried to her own room.

As she passed by Karen and Claudia's room, she could hear noises inside indicating that the two of them were awake.

When she opened her bedroom door, she spotted the music box on her bed. Excitement bubbled through her belly as she remembered her five o'clock discovery.

She approached the bed slowly, remembering the moment the night before when she had been tenderly running her fingers along the side of the box. The trigger was subtle, and most people wouldn't have noticed it. Sydney, however, was not most people, and she recognized it for what it was immediately. With surprise and anticipation, she had opened the secret compartment. Trembling hands had removed the things inside. There was the letter, which she read over and over, amazed at its existence, and a picture of two smiling girls. And there was the medallion.

Sydney sat now and picked it up, studying the picture on one side and feeling the words on the other. It was slightly larger than a Canadian toonie but thicker, almost twice as thick. It was made of a light metal, one that felt almost negligible in her hand. The picture on the front was of a cougar with lips peeled back from sharp teeth and ears turned backwards, tight against its head. The words on the back didn't make much sense, at least not when read together. They were in English, and Sydney estimated the disc to be about a hundred years old.

She then picked up the letter. It was on looseleaf, scrawled in a quick hand, with small, round letters. The handwriting wasn't familiar to her, but she remembered the woman it belonged to. Her Aunt Melody, a woman who was as different from Rosemarie as it was possible for two people to be. Where Sydney's mother had been delicate and pretty, prone to smiling and kind, Melody had been tall and boisterous, wild and uncontrollable. She had married a disreputable gambler at sixteen and broke every rule she could think of. Even so, Melody had loved Rosemarie deeply, always looking to her big sister for advice, though not always taking it. She had loved Sydney too. Sydney could remember her bringing her gifts and taking her places. Then, when Sydney was eight, Melody had disappeared. Sydney had missed her terribly, but didn't really understand the mystery surrounding her disappearance. Now, with her newfound clues, she began to wonder what had really happened to her aunt. 

_“Dear Rosemarie,” it said, “Hi! How are you? How is the weather on your end? How is my favorite little niece? It seems like forever since I've seen the two of you. I miss you, and I plan on coming to see you soon. Maybe I'll come when Nic is on one of his little trips._

_'Things here have been okay, for the most part, but slightly odd. Maybe I'm just being paranoid. I don't know. It's just that I've got this feeling that someone's been watching me. Does that sound foolish? The feeling began soon after...Maybe I should start at the beginning._

_'Remember when I told you that Nic thought he was onto something big? I remember distinctly because you gave me that look. You might not have believed it, but I did. I'd never seen him so excited. He told me that he had figured out where something special was hidden—but he wouldn't say what or where. Well, almost a week ago, Nic came home claiming to have found the key. Then, he handed me a coin of some kind. If I didn't love Nic so much, I'd find it implausible that this piece of metal could be the key to anything. It's a strange little thing, with a cat on one side and a jumble of words on the other. When Nic gave it to me, he told me to keep it safe at all costs. He was so fierce and sincere that I had to promise. The next day, he got a lead on something in Las Vegas and left. Now, here I am, babysitting this coin._

_'It was right after he left that this feeling started. It's like a soft whisper at the back of my mind telling me that I'm being watched. Maybe the creepy way Nic was acting that night got to me. I don't know. Today, paranoia drove me to hide the coin. I hid it in a place no one but you could ever find it. Maybe, now that it's safe, I can put aside all my feelings of unease...”_

From there, the letter trailed off into inconsequential things, and on previous readings, Sydney had absorbed them with relish. On this reading, it was the first part that interested her. Melody had hidden the coin, yet it had been in the music box. At some point, Rosemarie must have gone and found it, hiding it away somewhere she thought was safe. After reading the letter, Sydney was sure that the medallion was the cause of her Aunt Melody's disappearance. But what had happened to Melody? And what secret was the coin the answer to? She knew she could find the answers. For one thing, that was what she did—she solved ancient mysteries with only the barest of clues. Also, the box had chosen now to come back into her life again. There had to be a reason.

The first question was where to start. There were a couple of ways that she could go. First, there was her uncle Nic. After Melody's disappearance, Sydney had only seen him once. He had come to their home to see Rosemarie. Now, she wondered if that visit had anything to do with the coin. Considering it was his only link to the thing he sought, it was a definite possibility. Secondly, there was her father. He could tell her things about her aunt's disappearance that would have flown right over the head of an eight year old. Sydney just wished she knew what the cat symbol meant.

Karen found her there a few minutes later, still staring at the coin. The secretary knocked lightly, and Sydney looked up.

“Morning, Syd.”

“Morning, Karen. How'd you sleep?”

“Not that great,” she admitted. “With all the talk about mothers, I couldn't help but think of my own mother...and having to tell Cory she was gone.”

Sydney stood up and went over to Karen, putting her arms around the slighter woman and giving her a tight squeeze.

“Are you all right now?”

XXX

_“It's going to be all right,” she said, kneeling down to look him in the eye._

_The small boy, short and skinny, with hair so blond it was almost white and a pixie face, looked at her with shattered eyes and a trembling lip. He seemed so frail that Karen just wanted to wrap her arms around him and never let go._

_“How, Karen?” he asked. “How is it going to be all right without her?”_

_She knew how he felt. In fact, deep in her heart, she was feeling the same thing. She was nineteen years old. Her mother was supposed to be there forever, someone to turn to as she matured and aged; someone to care for her in the times when she still felt like a child. It wasn't fair._

_Karen did put her arms around Cory now. She felt his slight body shaking with emotion and knew that he had started to cry. She wanted to cry too, but fought the tears back. This was no time for tears. Tears were for when you were alone and little eyes couldn't see them. Like it or not, she had become the adult in her young brother's life. He was her responsibility, and he needed her. There was no way she was going to let him down._

_“We'll find a way,” she whispered. “Me and you.”_

_“I'm scared.”_

_“Me too, but I will never leave you.”_

_He cried harder at this, and Karen had to really fight to keep back her tears. She felt so bereft without her mom. When she closed her eyes, she could still see her face and feel her careworn hands._

__I won't let you down, Mom _, she said to herself._ We'll be fine, me and Cory. Everything will be all right. __

_And suddenly, she felt a little better. It was almost as if her mother were behind her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. Karen felt stronger and ready to tackle the world for the little boy now in her care. She kissed the top of his head and pulled away, lifting his chin with her fingers._

_“We really will be okay, you know.” And for the first time, she really believed it._

_He looked at her for a few seconds before nodding and bringing his palms up to scrub his face. Then he took her hand._

_“I'm glad you're here.”_

_“Me too.”_

XXX

“Yeah. You know how it is sometimes in the middle of the night.”

Sydney nodded, squeezed her again, and released her. “Are Claudia and Nigel up yet?”

“Claudia's in the bathroom taking a shower. I haven't seen Nigel.”

“Okay, I'll go check on him. I'll meet you downstairs for breakfast.”

“Great.” Karen graced her with a smile. “I”ll even make it.”

“You're just scared because of my turkey stories yesterday,” Sydney teased.

The two women left the room, one headed down the stairs, and the other headed down the hall. As Sydney passed the bathroom, she heard the shower running and Claudia's voice over the spray singing slightly off key.

Nigel's door was still closed, as it had been when she left it an hour earlier. Sydney knocked gently and waited for an answer.

“Come in,” Nigel's sleepy voice mumbled.

Sydney threw open the door. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead! It's ten o'clock.”

Nigel blinked sleepily as she entered. He covered his mouth as he yawned.

“Ten o'clock?”

“You're sleeping the day away.”

He drew his brow together in thought for a moment before saying, “Seems to me, I had someone in here keeping me awake at five this morning.”

Sydney put on her most innocent look. “Really? Who was that? Has Claudia been hitting on you, Nigel?”

“Very funny, Sydney.” He shuddered at the thought.

She chuckled. “Come on, get up. Karen's making breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” He sat up, looking more awake already.

“Yes, food.”

She was about to leave when his voice stopped her. “Syd?”

“Yeah, Nige?”

“About what you said earlier...”

“It can wait until after we've had something to eat.”

Sydney was reluctant to get back to the mystery, which was unusual for her. She was excited, yes. She wanted to know the answers, but this was also her last day with her three closest friends, and she wanted to enjoy it while she could. The next morning, Claudia would be on her way back to New York, and Karen and Nigel would be off to their own homes. The mystery had waited twenty-five years, it could wait another day—but she still planned on calling her father sometime that day and asking him her questions.

When she got to the kitchen, it was full of good smells, and Karen was still there alone.

“Need some help?” Sydney asked.

“No, thanks. I'm just making omelets. Is Nigel getting up?”

“Yep. I mentioned you and cooking in the same sentence, and he couldn't get up fast enough.”

Karen laughed. “I don't know how he eats what he does and still stays thin.”

“Relic hunting. It's great for the abs.”

“Where is everyone?” came a shrill voice.

“We're in the kitchen, Claudia.”

“What are you doing in there?” She came barreling in, still wearing her over sized pajamas, with her short hair wet and slicked back from her shower. “Oh.”

“I'm cooking, Claudia,” Karen said. “Want to help?”

“No, thanks. I think I'll just...I think I'll just...um...see if the cat needs anything.”

Sydney shared a glance with Karen as Claudia hurried back out the door. It was refreshing to see, though she had matured some, Claudia was still herself at the core.

“Nigel!” Claudia's voice came again. “Nigel! I'm going to kill you! Come here.”

This time, the glance Sydney shared with Karen was startled. After a second's hesitation, and a sound like the roof caving in, the two of them raced towards the living room.

When they got there, Claudia was chasing Nigel, swinging one of the pillow's from the arm chair, which had tipped over onto the floor. Sydney didn't even want to know how that had happened.

“Nigel!” Claudia cried again, swinging but missing Sydney's dodging assistant. Nigel looked smug and laughing, so Sydney could only conclude he'd done something to deserve the swipes Claudia was aiming at his head.

“What's going on?” she demanded. “Nigel, mind the tree!”

Nigel narrowly missed having another tree disaster as he twisted right at the last moment. Claudia gave up waving the pillow and let it go. It hit Nigel in the stomach. He hadn't been expecting it, and the momentum made him trip. His arms windmilled, but he couldn't keep his feet and toppled backwards.

“Nigel!” This was from Karen, concerned instead of enraged.

“What's going on?” Sydney repeated.

Claudia opened her mouth to speak, but Nigel hurried to say, “I didn't do anything, Syd.”

He regarded them petulantly from his place on the floor, looking and sounding like a bad little boy.

“Then why is Claudia chasing you and hollering like a banshee?” Silence. “Nigel?”

“He pinched me!” Claudia exclaimed.

“Nigel!”

“Well,” he protested. “She wouldn't listen! If someone says to you, 'If you don't pay attention, I'll pinch you,' don't you listen?”

“Listen about wh...” Sydney trailed off as Karen gave a cry and ran back towards the kitchen. The smell of burnt eggs wafted down the hallway about a second before Sydney's smoke detector went off. She gave both Nigel and Claudia her sternest look before grabbing her abused pillow and hurrying to the hallway to wave smoke away from the smoke detector.

She heard Claudia ask behind her, “Are you all right, Nigel? Did you hurt yourself?”

“Just my pride. I'm sorry I pinched you. I did warn you that I would.”

“Nobody's reacted that way to my kiss before...”

Sydney shook her head before waving the pillow wildly. The mistletoe had struck again.


	5. Chapter 5

After everyone had eaten breakfast, dressed, showered, and otherwise prepared to meet the day, Claudia announced that she wanted to go shopping. This was not surprising as Claudia always wanted to go shopping. She tried to cajole the others into going but, since shopping wasn't either Sydney or Nigel's thing, the only one who agreed was Karen. Sydney lent them the keys to her jeep and sent them on their way like two excited teenagers.

Once they were gone, Sydney couldn't believe how quiet her house suddenly became. As hard as it was to believe, it seemed almost empty without Claudia and Karen's chatter.

“So, Nigel,” she asked, relaxing with Mafdet in her lap, “what was that whole thing with Claudia about?”

He glanced at her, his face coloring. “Nothing.”

“It had to be something. There was almost bloodshed.”

“It's stupid.”

“Probably.”

He gave a big sigh. “She caught me under the mistletoe, all right? I teased her and said if she kissed me, I'd pinch her. She did, so I did. It was a joke...obviously, she didn't find it funny.”

“Wow, Nigel, two kisses in as many days. You're becoming quite the stud.”

He grimaced. “How would you enjoy being the only woman in a house full of men?” Before she could answer, he held up his hand. “Never mind. I withdraw the question.”

Sydney didn't know whether to be insulted or amused. She settled for ambiguously raising an eyebrow.

“By the way, Sydney.” Nigel's face turned serious. “What exactly was it you found in your mother's music box?”

She paused before answering, ordering things in her mind. “Well, there was a letter from my aunt to my mother, a picture of the two of them together, and a coin.”

“The mystery you mentioned?”

“My aunt disappeared twenty-five years ago. From the letter, I think the coin is the answer to what happened to her.”

Nigel leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “What do you mean?”

Sydney quickly explained to him the contents of the letter and what was on the coin. He listened intently, not interrupting.

After she was finished, Nigel said, “Wow, Syd. How do you think the medallion got in there?”

“My mother must have found it. Aunt Melody did say that she would know where it was. It's obvious that she couldn't follow the clues any further. I'm not sure if it's because she hit a dead end or because...”

“She got sick?”

Sydney nodded as her stomach clenched. “Yes.”

“Well,” Nigel said, “if anyone can figure out what happened to your aunt, Sydney, it would be you. Can I see the coin?”

Sydney went and got it, bringing the music box and the rest of its contents as well. Nigel looked at the coin curiously, turning it in his fingers.

“This is amazing, Syd. I wonder what it means?”

“I don't know. All I know is that my aunt's disappearance has to involve this coin. I can feel it.”

“What are you going to do?”

She leaned her elbow on the chair arm, cupping her chin. “I think I'm going to call Dad. He might remember something I don't.”

“That's a great idea.” Then, he paused before asking, “Are you going to show Karen and Claudia?”

She bit her lip. “Probably. I just wanted to give them an extra day of fun and relaxation before plunging them back into work again...well, Karen, anyway.”

“Is this really work when it's so close to your family?”

She shrugged. “It's been twenty-five years.”

“Yes, but it also has to do with your mum and her sister.”

She smiled slightly. “Are you concerned about me, Nigel?”

“You're my friend.”

“You're sweet.”

“Well, I...”

Sydney cut off what he was going to say by getting up and saying herself, “I suppose I should make the phone call.”

“Yeah.”

She gave him the letter and picture, and sat down to use her land line. Her father was supposed to be at his in-laws for another day, so Sydney hoped she wouldn't be disturbing him.

The phone rang a couple of times before a young, perky voice answered, “Hello?”

“Hi, Jenny?”

“Yes, this is Jenny.”

“This is Syd. Is Dad busy?”

“He's around here somewhere. Wait a minute. I'll go find him.”

Sydney waited patiently, listening to the dead air and watching Nigel read over the letter. He wore the expression he always got when concentrating, one that made it seem as if his current task were the only thing in the world.

“Sydney?” She had been studying Nigel so intently that her father's voice made her jump.

“Oh, hi, Dad.”

“What's up?”

“Have you got a few minutes?”

“I've always got time for you, Scoochie.”

“Dad!”

“Sorry.”

At Sydney's exasperated cry, Nigel looked up from the letter, but she just waved at him.

“Listen, I've got some pretty serious questions, and I'm not sure they are appropriate for the holidays. If you want to wait until after New Year's, I'll understand.”

There was a pause, then a solemn, “What's this about?”

“I found some things in the music box, some things about Aunt Melody.”

“Oh.”

“I don't remember her very well, and her disappearance is downright blurry. I was just wondering if you could tell me your version of what happened.”

“That was so long ago...”

“That's why I need your help. I want to understand what happened.”

“I don't think anyone knows that for sure. The case has never really been solved.”

“I remember that being hard on Mom,” Sydney admitted. “She always looked so sad when she spoke of her sister.”

“As hard as losing your mother was, I think it would have been harder not to know. How can you move on from something like that?”

She had to agree. She hated uncertainty, both personally and professionally, which is probably one of the reasons she had such a hunger to find answers. “What do you remember from the time?”

“Well, your aunt was married to that man. Do you remember your Uncle Nic?”

“Vaguely.”

“Your mother didn't like him much, but she didn't make much of a point of it. She didn't want to push Melody away. Melody had fought with your grandmother over him, and they never spoke again.”

“What did you think of him?”

Her father sighed. “He was a small time crook and a gambler. If there was a scheme around, he was in it. Nic didn't have much to redeem him—but he did love Melody....I don't know if you know this, Sydney, but her disappearance drove him over the edge.”

No, she hadn't known this. Sitting up straighter, she asked, “What?”

“He went crazy. He came to your mother, babbling something about a coin.”

“A coin?” Sydney's eyes immediately went to Nigel, who had finished reading the letter and was twirling the medallion in his fingers. At her words, he looked up and their eyes met.

“Yes. He demanded that Rosemarie tell him where it was if she knew because it was the key.”

“Did she?”

“She denied knowledge of it. He then started pleading with her to forgive him. I wanted to throw him out at that point, but he broke down and Rosemarie felt sorry for him. In retrospect, I think he may have known more than he said about Melody's fate.”

“And Mom?”

“Well, she had been feeling worried about her sister before Melody disappeared. She had received a letter, cryptic and sounding slightly paranoid, but Rosemarie said it made sense in hindsight.”

“Did she tell the police?”

“They were convinced that Nic killed her and hid the body. They could never convict him, though. He went into an institution instead.”

“Wow.”

“Your mother was determined to find out what happened to Melody, but she ran out of time.”

“One last question. Is Uncle Nic still alive?”

She heard the shrug in her father's voice as he answered, “As far as I know. If so, he'd probably still be in Shady Acres.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Can I ask what you found in the music box?”

“There was a letter from Melody and a picture of her and Mom together...and a coin sized medallion.”

“A medallion?” It was his turn to sound surprised. “Does it have a cat on it?”

“Yes, and from what you tell me, I think it's the key to unlocking two mysteries.”

“Be careful, Sydney.”

“Don't worry, Dad. I always am,” she replied, adding to herself, When I can.

Nigel was watching her as she hung up the phone. “What'd he say?”

Sydney quickly sketched for him the things she had learned from her father.

“So, both your mother and Nic believed the medallion was the reason for Melody's disappearance?”

“Yes,” she said thoughtfully.

“Do you think that your uncle killed his wife and that doing so drove him crazy?”

“No, I don't. I think the medallion's the answer.”

Nigel nodded as if he expected this. “Then what's our next step?”

“I want to talk to Nic.”

Nigel's eyes widened. “But he's insane.”

“I don't care.”

“He may be dead.”

This, she had to concede. “That may be true. We'll know soon because I'm going to call Shady Acres.”

She didn't waste any time in doing so. It only took her minutes to find out that Nic Parker was indeed a resident.

When she hung up, she announced, “Tomorrow after the girls go home and we take down the decorations, I'm going to see that man. You coming?”

“I have a choice?”

“Well, it's not really a relic hunt, and, technically, you're still on Christmas vacation.”

He pretended to think deeply before saying, “Let's see...Sitting home alone watching the snow or going on an adventure with you.”

“Normally, you would choose the former.”

“Are you kidding? We haven't been on a hunt in two weeks!”

Sydney laughed. “Okay, now I know you've been hanging around with me too long.”

“I know. I think I need my head examined.”

“We are going to the right place. Do you want to commit yourself while we're there?”

He made a face at her, which made her laugh again. “Oh, Nigel.”

“So, how far is it to this hospital of yours?”

“From the directions she gave me, I'd say about three hours. We can drive—I don't think we'll have much trouble.”

“Have you heard the weather forecast?”

“No. Why? Have you?”

A blizzard could prevent their investigation for another couple of days. Now that Sydney had a lead, she was impatient to get started.

“No,” he answered, getting up. “But I will.”

Her TV was in another room, a smaller, shabbier, and more intimate room, since she wasn't much of a television watcher. He headed in that direction. While he was gone, Sydney went over to his chair and picked up the letter, picture, and coin. The letter and the coin went back into the secret compartment of the music box, but the picture replaced Santa on the mantle. Sydney had every intention of having it enlarged and framed. She only had a few pictures of her mother as a child, and this was her only one of her Aunt Melody.

Nigel was back in minutes to tell her that there was supposed to be some snow the next day but nothing heavy. This was a relief, and she found herself looking forward to the drive, snow or not.

Claudia and Karen were gone for hours. Sydney and Nigel spent the quiet time talking companionably, sometimes about the music box mystery, but mostly about other things. Mafdet came once more to sit comfortably in Sydney's lap, and Sydney patted her absently.

The busy holiday finally caught up with them, and they were close to dozing when the slam of the door brought them fully awake. 

“Whew, Claudia, I think you bought out every store in town,” Karen's voice came from the hallway.

“I know. Wasn't it fun? I love that skirt you bought. It's perfect on you.”

“I think you made the right color choice on that dress—definitely blue over pink.”

“Honey, we're home!” Claudia called a little more loudly.

“We're in the living room,” Sydney called back, preparing herself for the furious storm that was Claudia.

Claudia entered first, flushed both from cold and excitement. A fashionable hat sat jauntily on her head, and her hands were covered by fuzzy mittens.

“Your driveway's getting a little deep, Syd.”

She sighed. “I suppose I should shovel it.”

“I thought that was the man's job,” Karen teased, coming in behind Claudia.

In contrast to her friend, she was bare headed and bare handed, though she wore a crocheted scarf. She winked at Nigel before starting to peel off her outside clothes.

Nigel groaned but, to his credit, said, “Where do you keep your shovel, Syd?”

She got up, displacing a not so happy Mafdet. “I've got two in the shed if you really want to help. If not, I can do it. After all, you are a guest.”

“I don't mind helping,” he replied, also getting up.

“You know,” Sydney commented as the two of them started dressing warmly, “I really should get a snow blower.”

“Hey, Syd, what's this?” Claudia asked. Sydney looked up from zipping her black jacket to see her friend had gone to the mantle and was holding the picture of Melody and Rosemarie in her fingers.

“That's my mother and her sister,” she explained. “I found it in the music box.”

Claudia's eyes widened. “But it was empty when I bought it.”

“Syd found a secret compartment,” Nigel told her, pulling on his hat.

“A secret compartment?”

“Yup,” Sydney admitted.

Karen asked, “Did you know it was there?”

“Nope.”

“Definitely not,” Nigel said at the same time, throwing Sydney a look that said he remembered her late night wanderings.

“Is this all that was in there?” Karen asked again.

“Not exactly.” Sydney briefly explained the contents of the music box for Karen and Claudia, adding her conversation with her father and her desire to speak to Nic Parker the next day.

“It's almost like Nancy Drew!” Claudia exclaimed afterward.

“I think I'm a little old to be Nancy Drew,” she argued, putting on her leather gloves.

“How about Miss Marple?” Nigel teased.

“Shut up, Bailey, or I'll make you clear the entire driveway yourself.”

After she and Nigel finished shoveling the driveway, she took the letter and coin out to show Karen and Claudia. Claudia was extremely hyper over the fact that there were clues to a mystery hidden in her present. She even asked if she should postpone going home for a couple of days so she could help find out what was going on.

“...and can we come to the loony bin with you tomorrow?”

Sydney glanced at Nigel before saying, “I think it's best if just Nigel and I go. I'm not sure how many visitors they allow. Besides, are you sure you want to stick around? Don't you have to work on Monday?”

“What's Karen going to be doing?”

“Research to see if I can find out anything about the coin, right?” This was Karen herself.

“Right,” Sydney affirmed.

“Well, two eyes are better than one, right?”Claudia said.

Nigel chuckled and answered, “I think you mean two pairs of eyes, Claudia.”

“Yeah, whatever. I want to help.”

Sydney threw up her hands. “If you're sure you won't get in trouble, you're welcome to stay.”

A smile spread over Claudia's face. “My boss loves me. Let me go change my flight plans.”

“Is this all right with you, Karen?” Sydney asked softly as Claudia hurried over to the phone. “Claudia's a good researcher, but she's easily distracted...and I didn't ask whether you minded working on your vacation.”

“I'm going to do most of the research from home with one of my best friends. I think I can handle it.”

“Why don't you two stay here? I have lots of room, research materials, and the Internet. Since I'm asking you to work, the least I can do is put you up and feed you.”

“Accepted.”


	6. Chapter 6

The next day, Sydney and Nigel started out quite early. They left Karen and Claudia cheerily taking down all the decorations—except for the tree, which Sydney was leaving up until after New Year's Day—and chattering wildly. The two of them put her in mind of chipmunks.

Nigel had taken digital pictures of the coin in case they were needed, and Sydney left the real thing with their two friends. She found she was glad Claudia had decided to stay and was looking forward to spending more time with her.

The ride to the institution went by quickly with Nigel to talk to. They were used to traveling together and fell into an easy camaraderie within minutes of leaving the driveway. They talked about the mystery a bit, and a bit about classes and exams. They talked about Claudia and Karen and how much they had enjoyed spending Christmas with them. Nigel napped a little and they bickered good naturedly over radio stations. The normality made Sydney feel as if this were any other hunt. It took the personal nature out of it, and Sydney was grateful to Nigel for that.

They didn't run into snow until about halfway through their journey. It started out as big flakes that gently kissed the windshield. They fell so softly, they were almost hypnotic. As Sydney drove on, they got a little worse, smaller and thicker, splattering against the car. Still, it wasn't too bad. At this point, Nigel was sleeping. Sydney yawned, wishing he'd wake up to counteract the soothing snowflakes, but let him sleep on.

Shady Acres was located in farming country just outside of Clarksville, the town her aunt and uncle had called home. The view on the road to the institution consisted mostly of fields and trees, with the occasional barn or house for variety. When they got close to their destination, Sydney woke Nigel to act as navigator.

“It's very peaceful,” he commented.

“Peaceful, yes,” Sydney agreed, “But which way do I go at this fork?”

He squinted at the directions. “Left...I think...”

“Nigel!”

“Left. Yes, definitely left, Syd.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, giving him one of her sternest looks.

“Yes, I'm sure. Go left.”

She turned left and, about fifteen minutes later, they came across a huge white wooden sign that said, “Shady Acres...come and rest for awhile.”

Sydney pulled into a long and rambling dirt road. It was rutted and full of snow, so they were bounced around like toys as they followed it. Trees grew close and, in some places, brushed the jeep's windows.

“Are these people medical patients or deer?” Sydney complained as her head almost connected with the roof for about the fifth time.

Nigel snickered but stopped as he was thrown as close to the dash as his seatbelt would allow.

It seemed to take a long time before they saw a huge old farmhouse peeking through the trees. They went around one last turn and the whole house came into view. It was newly painted with a cheery replica of the sign at the end of the drive planted on the snow filled lawn. In front of the building was a cleared space with several cars parked in it.

Sydney pulled in her Jeep, noting faces gaping at her from the windows.

“Ready, Nigel?”

This was definitely not something Sydney was used to, and she had a minute of doubt. How was she supposed to talk to a crazy person—at least one who was not violent or pointing a gun at her, but was just lost? The former, she had lots of practice with, but she had no idea how to get answers from someone locked in his own world.

“Ready, Syd.” He, at least, sounded confident.

She got out of the car, straightening her jacket and wondering if she should don her satchel. She frowned and shook her head at herself. What use would it be in a mental institution?

“Something wrong?”

“No, just thinking that bringing a crossbow into a sanitarium may not be the brightest of ideas.”

“You're probably right,” he agreed as the two of them headed to the walkway. It had been shoveled and salted, showing carefully placed path stones. Even so, Sydney stepped carefully. Her boots gave good traction, but in the winter that was no guarantee against a fall.

The steps and veranda were as clear and as well salted as the path. Someone had taken pains to make the place accessible. Cheerful too, if the wreath on the door and the Christmas lights around the building's frame were any indication.

Sydney took the lead, as usual, and pushed open the door into the reception area. Like many reception areas she had seen, it was white and beige with a big desk in the middle of it. The desk was cluttered with papers, stationary supplies, and a telephone. Behind it was a rotund, stern-faced woman with mouse colored hair and a round face.

She looked up at their entrance. “Yes?”

“I'm Sydney Fox. I called to inquire about one of the patients.”

Suddenly, the woman smiled and the sternness melted from her face. “Oh, yes. I remember. We spoke on the phone. I'm Nurse Blackmore. You called about Nicholas Parker.”

“Right.”

“Do you know not one person has come to see him in the past twenty-four years? He had one visitor during his first couple of weeks here, and that was it. It's amazing that family has been found after all this time. You say he is your uncle?”

“Yes. He was married to my mother's sister.”

“Melody.”

Sydney was startled. “Yes. How did you know?”

“He talks about her a lot. Time is a little confusing for Nicholas.”

She wondered if this would work for the good of their cause or against it. “You say no one ever came to visit him? No friends? No family?”

“No, just a young man when he was first brought in. I was young myself, and an intern. I remember the visitor because I thought he was handsome, but he never came again.”

“Do you remember his name?”

“No.” The nurse shook her head. “I never knew it.”

Sydney wasn't surprised. “Is there anything else I should know about visiting my uncle?”

“No, not really. He's a model patient. Very sweet, but easily confused.”

The nurse beckoned to someone walking by. This was a tall, slim, dark haired young woman whose age Sydney would place somewhere between hers and Jenny's.

“Yes?” she asked brusquely.

“These guests have come to see Nicholas Parker.”

The younger nurse looked at them curiously. “Nicholas?”

“Yes. Can you show them to him?”

“All right.” As Sydney and Nigel started following her, she added, “He never gets visitors.”

“So we've heard,” Sydney told her.

The young nurse led them to a lounge with a television, a couple of couches, and some comfortable chairs. Only one person sat inside, staring out of a large picture window, watching the snow. Or maybe he was watching something only he could see.

“Nicholas,” the nurse said, “you have visitors.”

He turned to face them, and Sydney saw hints of the man she vaguely remembered from so long ago. Nic was younger than she expected—she would put his age at about fifty—and he was still a handsome man. Looking at him, even in faded clothes with slightly untidy hair, Sydney could see what had fascinated her aunt enough to defy Isabelle. His dark hair was just barely touched with grey, and he had eyes of a blue so pale that they only had a hint of color.

When those eyes lit on Sydney, he asked in a soft voice filled with aching and longing, “Melody?”

Sydney knew that she, like her aunt and unlike her mother, resembled Isabelle.

“No,” she said gently, “I'm Sydney, Uncle Nic. Do you remember me?”

“Sydney...Sydney...I knew a Sydney once. Wild little girl...she had the spark...”

Sydney looked at Nigel, who shrugged. “Little girls grow up.”

Nic's eyes sharpened, and he regarded her more closely. “Yes, they do. I see her in you. The little girl...and I see my Melody. But it takes a long time for girls to grow up. How long, Sydney?...How long?”

She sat down and indicated that Nigel should do the same. Honestly, she said, “It's been twenty-five years.”

The man's eyes opened wide. “Twenty-five years? I thought...She was here...here with me...”

“Uncle Nic, I've come for a reason.”

“Of course you have,” he said sadly. “I have no one...but she was here...I swear, she was here...”

Sydney tried again, “I have some questions. I need to know what happened twenty-five years ago. I want to let Aunt Melody rest.”

“What happened?”

“Yes, I want to find out what happened to Aunt Melody, and I need to know about the coin.”

“The coin! They can't find the coin.” Her uncle suddenly became very agitated. “Don't let them find the coin, Melody. Hide it away. Don't tell anyone about it...”

Sydney reached out and put her hand gently on his arm. “It's all right. The coin is hidden where no one will ever find it. It's safe, but I need to know what it means.”

He looked at her hand, then looked up at her, awareness of who she really was in his eyes once more. There were tears there too. Tears and a pain that sliced Sydney to the bone. “It's my fault, Sydney. My fault! If I wouldn't have given her the coin, she'd still be alive—she'd still be safe. I gave her that coin, and they killed her for it. I might not know anything else, I might not even know where or when I am most of the time, but I know that.”

“Who are they?”

“The ones I stole the coin from. I should have left it. We were getting along well enough...I'm sorry, Melody. I'm so, so sorry.”

“You stole the coin? Why?”

“Because I knew what it was the key to. The cougar, it told me, so I stole it. You don't steal from them, but I did. Melody paid for it...”

Sydney's hand tightened. “Who did you steal it from? What does the cougar mean? Did the words make sense to you?”

“The cougar will tell you. Listen to the cougar.”

“I don't understand.”

He beckoned her to come closer, so she leaned her head in close to his.

“Harrington,” he whispered. Sydney still didn't understand. She looked at him in some confusion, so he patted her hand. “Listen to the cougar. It knows where you need to go. It's the key...the key to everything...Hide it, Melody. Hide it and keep it safe! Don't let them find it...if they find it, everything will be lost...” He buried his face in his hands. “Lost...she's lost...lost...and it's my fault...I shouldn't have stolen from them...lost....lost...lost...”

“Uncle Nic? Are you all right, Uncle Nic?” She put her hand on his shoulder, but he just kept mumbling, so she said softly, “I'm sorry.”

She felt guilty for hurting someone so lost in his own mind, and she made a promise to herself to visit him periodically. First, though, she needed to find out who Harrington was, what exactly the cougar was supposed to be telling her, what happened to her aunt, and why the coin was the key.

She got no response with her apology, so she decided she'd interrogated the man enough. She indicated to Nigel that they should go. Something made her gently run her fingers through her uncle's hair soothingly. This seemed to help a little, and she felt slightly better as she went to tell the nurse at reception about Nic's distress.

Sydney was quiet as they made their way back to the Jeep, and Nigel didn't break the silence. She chewed over what Nic had told her, trying to make sense of it. She wished that she could have talked to him longer, that he had stayed lucid long enough to give her all the answers she craved. Sydney had a feeling they were all locked up there in his mind.

They were well on their way down the bumpy and rutted driveway when Nigel ventured, “So, what do you think it means?”

“I have no idea. We know that the whole thing had something to do with Harringtons—whoever or whatever they are. And the cougar supposedly talks. My uncle stole the coin for what it represented, and my aunt was kidnapped for the same reason. It's not much to go on, but it's more than we had. I'm going to get Karen to see if she can find out who or what the Harringtons are.”

“He wasn't what I expected,” Nigel admitted. Sydney risked a glance in his direction as he continued, “I expected someone...um..crazier. Someone not quite so, well...sad.”

“Yeah,” Sydney agreed. She wondered why her father had never told her that Nic was still alive.

“If I ever get locked up in one of those places, I hope someone loves me enough to come see me.”

She smiled at him. “Don't worry, Nigel. I'd always come visit you.”

“Thanks, Syd.”

Her answer was obscured as another bump in the road threw her forward against her seatbelt, cutting off her wind.

“Ow!” Nigel exclaimed. “Maybe you should slow down.”

“I'm only going fifteen miles an hour.”

They were just quitting the driveway when the light snowfall started to get a little heavier. Sydney noticed that the wind was also starting to pick up, and the sky was starting to darken.

“I don't like the looks of that,” she commented.

“It is coming down harder than it was supposed to. Maybe it's just a squall and it will die down by the time we get to the highway.”

“I hope so.” Sydney turned on her wipers and eased onto the road, which was only slightly more well kept than the driveway. It had been relatively clear when they arrived at the sanitarium an hour earlier, but now snow and slush were starting to pile up.

As they drove on through the country roads, the snow got worse instead of better. Sydney was reduced to following the quickly filling tracks of a vehicle that came before her. Around them, everything was crisp and silent. It felt as if the two of them were the only living creatures in the world.

Visibility was soon so bad that mid afternoon could have been night. Everything was grey and white, unending. Sydney squinted, trying to follow the tracks.

“Syd,” Nigel said softly, “maybe we should stop.”

“And go where? We're in the middle of nowhere.”

His hand was holding the handle above his head, his knuckles white with the strength of his grip. “Maybe one of the farm houses will put us up.”

“I can't see houses, Nigel. I can barely see the road ruts.”

“Well, I can't even tell if we're going the right way anymore...and the Jeep is sliding like it's got runners.”

“Are you scared?”

“Yes!”

She didn't even dare to take her eyes off the road to look at him. “It will be fine.”

“I'll believe that when we're no longer trapped in this white hell.”

Sydney sighed. “Fine, Nigel. I'll pull off and we'll see if we can find somewhere to weather it out.”

She put on her blinker, not that she believed anyone would be able to see it, and pulled to the side. She knew if shelter wasn't immediately evident, they would have to stay with the Jeep, otherwise they could wander off into the snow and get lost. She did not want to freeze to death.

“It was only supposed to be light snowfall,” Nigel complained as he slammed the door and hunched against the wind. Almost immediately, snowflakes clung to his eyelashes and lightly dusted his hair.

“You should know by now, Nigel, that people lie, cheat, and steal.”

“I still don't have to like it.”

He was standing with his arms crossed, hugging himself, with his ungloved hands stuck in his armpits. Sydney had brought her gloves, and she slipped them on, blinking rapidly as soft but cold snowflakes brushed her cheeks.

She went in the back of the Jeep and grabbed her satchel. Nigel lifted his eyebrows in question, so she said, “We're going to need the cell phone...and the GPS.”

“The GPS?” He looked startled.

“There's no way I'm leaving the Jeep without it. We're going to want to get back.” She then handed her bag to Nigel. “Here, you take the reading. I'm going to see if I've got any blankets in the back.”

“Do you think we'll need them?”

“From the looks of this place, chances are we'll need to shelter in a barn. The houses are few and far between.”

Bringing the blankets turned out to be a good idea. They walked with the wind and snow at their backs for fifteen minutes before Sydney grabbed Nigel's arm in relief. There, barely visible through the now heavily falling snow, a barn appeared like a beacon on a foggy night.

Nigel looked at her, blinking rapidly in the flakes that gusted against his face.

“There,” Sydney said, allowing her wildly blowing hair to get in her mouth.

He squinted, then said excitedly, “A barn.”

Sydney nodded and gave him a gentle push. He stumbled, so then she grabbed his jacket to keep him upright. He clutched at her, and together, they left the road and made their way through the calf high snow towards the barn. As they neared it, she noticed that it was faded but well made and still sturdy. She wondered if there were any animals inside. Not that it mattered. At this point, she gladly would have shared shelter with Fabrice Deviega. 

Nigel put on a burst of speed and reached the barn first, throwing open the door and peering inside, but waiting for her before going in.

“Nigel, get inside,” Sydney gasped, once more tasting hair and snowflakes.

He guided her in before turning and pulling the door closed. There was a board that went across from the inside to lock it. Nigel quickly lowered it before snatching his hands away and blowing on them.

After flicking on the light, Sydney rubbed her arms through her clothing and looked around the barn. There was a small and dusty window, but it didn't shed much light through the dirt and the blinding snow.

There were no animals in the barn, but Sydney didn't think this was permanent because she could smell the fresh scent of hay and the faint odor of farm animals. There was a haymow with sticks of hay showing over the edge near a ladder to prove it was still used for storage. There was also some hay on the ground floor, in the stalls, and near Sydney in the main area. A pitchfork leaned jauntily against the wall. The wind wailed outside, sounding like it wanted to tear the barn apart. She couldn't believe how quickly the storm had come.

“You all right?” she asked Nigel.

“I will be,” he said, knocking the snow out of his hair and brushing it off of his shoulders.

“It's not quite so cold now we're out of the wind.” She followed his example, then took off her wet jacket and gloves. “My shirt's not so bad, but my pants are soaked. I think I have a couple of warm pajamas in the bag with the blankets. Do you think you'll be able to fit into my bottoms?”

Nigel sighed. “Sadly, yes.”

She threw him a smile and started digging through the bag.

“Have you been stranded before, Syd?”

“Why?”

“Well, I don't know many people who carry blankets and pajamas in their cars.”

“Everyone should. You never know what'll come up—especially if you're on a hunt. There's an extra pair of clothes in here, but only one pair of socks.”

“The blankets should be enough to keep my feet from freezing.”

“It'll be downright cozy. Let's change, and then I want to call Karen and Claudia.”

The two of them changed quickly, not even bothering with modesty. They were so used to changing in front of each other that there was nothing new to see anyway. Even so, Sydney found herself sneaking a peek at Nigel as he slipped his shirt over his head and stood there shivering in his underwear She had told him once that he had a nice body, and she meant it. Most of the time, she tried not to notice, but once in awhile she liked to reap the benefits of having such a good looking best friend.

“How do I look?” Nigel asked once he was completely changed.

Sydney picked up their wet clothes to hang over the nearest hay bale, but paused to study him. He had chosen the blue pajamas, which were a solid, light color, and didn't look bad on him despite being made for a woman.

“You know, Nigel, I think they look better on you than they did on me.”

“Very funny.”

“How do I look?”

She twirled, knowing black flannel pajamas with clouds, stars, and moons on them weren't exactly her best look.

“Ravishing as always.”

Sydney laughed before continuing on to the haystack. She spread the clothes out evenly, hoping they would be dry by the time the storm blew over. While she was near the window, she peered out into the snow. Their tracks had already been covered over, and it didn't look as if the flakes had any intention of stopping for a long time.

“I think all weather people should be hung,” Nigel commented, combing his fingers through his hair.

“Well, they do say it's not a perfect science. Where's the phone?”

Nigel picked up the satchel and handed it to Sydney. She dug around, frowning when she finally found the phone at the bottom.

Karen answered on the second ring. “Fox residence.”

“Hey, Karen.”

“Sydney, hey! How'd you make out?”

“Good. I'll get to that in a minute. I have something I need you to look up. First, though, I have news of another type. How's the weather down there?”

“It's snowing but not too badly,” Karen said suspiciously. “Why?”

“Nigel and I ran into some weather.”

“Are you all right?”

“Sure...but we're snowed in, and I don't know how long until we can leave again. I'll call you later and let you know if we'll make it home tonight or whether we'll have to wait until tomorrow.”

“Which I hope we won't. We don't have any food with us, and I'm starting to get hungry already,” Nigel commented.

Sydney put her hand over the mouthpiece and said, “There's always hay.”

“What did you say?” Karen demanded.

“Nothing. I just wanted to call so you and Claudia wouldn't worry. Did you find out anything about the coin?”

“Well, nothing about the cougar, but the words on the back are part of a poem written about a hundred years ago...At least, there's a poem with those words in it.”

“That's something, anyway. Print it out in case it's not coincidence. I also want you to look up something else for me. See if there are any Harringtons in Clarksville or the surrounding area...and see if there's anything that connects them to cougars or catamounts.”

“Will do, Syd. Anything else?”

“No. I'll fill you in on the rest when we get home.”

“Okay. Talk to you soon.”

Sydney flipped the phone closed and stowed it back in her satchel. Though the barn wasn't as cold as outside, the air was still chilly. Plus, Sydney still felt cold from walking in the snow.

“Let's make a little nest in the hay,” she said.

“What?” Nigel's eyes widened.

“We're going to be here awhile. We need to get warm. If we wrap up in the blankets and surround ourselves with hay, we should be able to keep warm enough.”

“Oh, that makes sense,” Nigel conceded.

In all, there were four blankets in Sydney's bag. Instead of giving each of them two, she decided they'd be warmer if they shared the blankets and sat close together. Nigel's poor bare feet, which felt like icicles, would especially benefit from the warmth. The hay proved to be a great insulator, despite being scratchy and pokey.

They sat there in silence for awhile, soaking up the heat from each other's bodies. With the warmth and silence, it wasn't long before Sydney started to feel drowsy.

“Nigel?” she said.

“Hmmnn?” He sounded as sleepy as she was.

“Why do you think my parents left him there all alone?”

“Nic?”

“Yeah. I know they didn't really like him, but...”

“In your mother's case, it could have hurt too much. Maybe he represented everything she'd lost.”

Sydney sighed, laying her head on Nigel's shoulder. “Maybe. I liked him, though. Despite all the things my father said about him, he was always kind to me. I don't like the thought of his being all alone.”

Nigel put his head against hers. “We'll visit him, Syd. You and me.”

She felt warmed by his use of the word 'we'. It was nice to know that she had someone to count on—that she didn't have to do it all alone. “What was she like? Your mother, I mean.”

“She was very strong. Very independent,” he answered after a moment. “She was a great Mum, and I always thought she was the most amazing person in the world. Despite the fact that Preston was nearly perfect, I never got the feeling that she loved him more than me. In fact, she made me feel very special.”

“You don't talk about her much.”

“No,” he admitted. “Sometimes it still hurts.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean,” Sydney said softly, thinking of her own mother.

“How about your mother, Syd? What was she like?”

Sydney smiled, though Nigel couldn't see it. “Completely opposite to Dad and me. I don't think there is much of her in me at all. She was tiny and delicate. I used to think she was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen...I remember her standing in front of the mirror, brushing her long, dark hair, and being so proud she was my mother.

'She was soft spoken and never raised her voice, and she was a sweet and gentle person. There are a lot of things I've forgotten about her, but I'll never forget how loving she was. When I lost her...Well, I had a rough couple of years. First, I saw Alistair Newell get murdered, then my mom died. I went a little wild.”

She chuckled sadly, remembering how depression had driven her to do some things she regretted.

“If it weren't for my dad, I probably would have turned into a statistic somewhere along the way. When I was thirteen, he sat me down and we had a long talk. I found out he was hurting as much as I was, and it helped. I remembered my dream of becoming a relic hunter, and I thought how proud my mom would be if I was bringing joy and beauty back into the world.”

“The pain never really goes away, does it?”

“No.”

“I think your mother would be pleased that you're solving this mystery.”

“Yeah. I think I'm doing this as much for her as I am for Aunt Melody or myself.”

“Do you have any theories as to what the cougar might mean?”

“Not a one,” she admitted, “But if I can figure out what Nic meant by 'listen to the cougar', I might know what to do next.”

“I'm sure between the three of us...” Then, he paused as if in thought, “...all right, four of us, Claudia does have a good idea once in awhile, we can figure out some of the puzzle and what our next step will be.”

“Speaking of Karen and Claudia, did you have a nice Christmas, Nigel?”

“It was wonderful. I can't remember having a nicer Christmas since Mother died. I didn't know it would be so great just to sit around and visit with friends. As you know, I'm a solitary being, but I had a lot of fun.”

Sydney laughed lightly. “Despite being caught under the mistletoe.”

“Girls!” he huffed in a little boy way that made her laugh harder.

“Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it—especially pinching Claudia.”

It was Nigel's turn to laugh. “You should have seen her face, Syd. Getting laid out by the pillow afterward was worth it.”

“Nigel, sometimes you're worse than she is!”

“Bite your tongue.”

They lapsed into silence then, and Sydney felt herself relaxing into sleep. Nigel was warm and comforting against her, a soothing presence. The whole thing felt rather surreal, so as she dozed off, it felt like drifting from one dream into another.

XXX

_“Watch me, Mom! Watch me!” Sydney called as she pumped her legs and reached for the sky._

_“I see you, honey,” her mother replied, a smile on her face._

_Sydney felt as if she were flying as the swing went higher and higher. Then, when the swing was moving upwards, faster than she could even comprehend, she let go of the chains and her little body soared up into the air. This was her favorite part of swinging—the moment when she was actually airborne, flying as free as any bird._

_“Sydney!” She heard her mother exclaim as her body came back down to earth, landing on running legs._

_“Wasn't that great, Mom?” she asked, beaming._

_Her mother hurried over. “Are you okay?”_

_Puzzled, Sydney shrugged. “I do that all the time. I love to fly.”_

_“All the time?” Rosemarie sounded slightly breathless, as if she had been running._

_“Sure. It's fun. My friends do it too. Well, all but Peony, but she's a chicken.”_

_Rosemarie's hand went to her shoulder. “I don't think you should do that any more, Sydney.”_

_“Why not?”_

_“Because little girls don't have wings, and when they go up, they have to come down.”_

_“Okay,” Sydney said, but she knew at the time that it was a lie. There was no way she could give up the wondrous feeling of soaring through the air._

_“Good.” This made the worry smooth from her mother's face. “Let's go home. I think it might rain.”_

_Sydney didn't understand the problem. Rain was wonderful to play in—it cooled you when you were hot, and the puddles splashed cheerfully when stomped in. Even so, grownups all seemed to run inside at the first sign of it, almost as if death were falling from the sky instead of water._

_“Just five more minutes?”_

_“I don't think so, but when we get inside, we'll make some cookies.”_

_“Okay!” Sydney loved baking with her mom. She reached up and took Rosemarie's slightly larger hand and squeezed. The hand squeezed back._

_Happily, she skipped next to her mother as they walked to their home. A feeling of love and security filled her and a voice inside her mind, one older and wiser, told her that soon memories like this would be precious._

_Then, the sky unexpectedly began to darken. Sydney's hand tightened on her mother's, and the child who was often a fearless daredevil was suddenly deeply afraid. Thunder rumbled and the wind picked up, whipping at their hair._

_“Mom!” she cried._

_“It's all right, Sydney.”_

_Arms picked her up and held her close. Sydney clung to her mother's body, feeling its warmth and the rise and fall of the chest pressed to hers._

_The fear deepened. “Don't leave me Mommy!”_

_If her mother answered, the words were lost in the wind. The thunder got louder and louder, shaking the ground beneath Rosemarie's feet._

_Sydney screamed, knowing the thunder wasn't really thunder. It was time and fate. Knowledge beyond her years came suddenly to her mind, things a six year old should never know._

_The wind picked up as well. It tugged at her, trying to pull her from the loving arms holding her. She tightened her arms and wrapped her legs around Rosemarie's waist. The wind pulled harder, determined to win the struggle._

_“No! You can't take her from me! I won't let you!”_

_The wind paid no attention. Instead, it gave one last wrench, and Sydney felt her arms and legs break free as she was ripped from her mother._

_“Mommy!” she screeched in despair._

XXX

Sydney woke with a start, fear rolling in her belly, and sweat dripping from her forehead and down her chest.

“Syd?” Nigel asked sleepily.

“It's all right,” she said over the wild pounding of her heart.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, go back to sleep.”

He yawned, pointing to the window. “I already slept the afternoon away. It's dark.”

“You're right.” She rose, wiping damp hair from her forehead. Nigel was looking at her critically, so she sighed and admitted, “I had a bad dream.”

“Crazy rivals with guns or endless pits of doom?”

Sydney felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. “Neither.”

She peered out the window, feeling the chill coming off of the glass. The snow wasn't falling as thickly as before, but it was still more than she should drive in. In the darkness, it made everything seem still and silent, almost like a painting.

“Call Karen and Claudia,” she said. “We should probably spend the night. It's still coming down out there, and we'll never find our way in the dark.”

“All right, Syd,” he replied, but didn't move to do so. After a pause, he asked seriously, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“What? The dream?” He nodded. “No, I don't think so...but thanks.”

“Are you sure?”

She hugged herself, more chilled from the dream than the brisk air. “Yeah.”

He watched her for a moment before getting up and stretching first his back then his legs. “There's one problem about spending the night here—well besides the hard floor and the scratchy hay, I mean.”

Sydney started walking to stretch her own legs. “What's that?”

“I'm hungry, and we don't have any food with us.”

Sydney indicated the hay with a waving hand. “Be my guest, Nigel.”

“Uh...I don't think I'm quite that hungry yet.”

“Oh, wait. I might have some of your protein bars in my satchel. It's not much, but it's something to put in your belly until morning.”

“Great!” He lunged across the room to scoop up the satchel, painfully knocking her crossbow against his knuckles. Sydney was still using the old satchel because Karen's present was at home under the tree. “Flashlight...mirror...hairbrush...phone...perfume...research...more research...money...” he mumbled, “...Aha! Five bars. That's two and a half each.”

“That's not a lot for twenty-four hours of hunger. If I were you, I'd eat one and save the other for later. It's only,” She looked at her watch, “seven o'clock. That's what I'm going to do.”

He nodded and was about to close the bag to call Karen when he said, “Hey, there are cards in here. Do you want to play? It'll pass the time. I've had my full of napping.”

“Sure.” Anything to drive the awful dream from her mind. “What do you want to play?”

“Anything but poker!”

“Why not?” Sydney asked, going back over to the hay and flopping down before wrapping one of the blankets around her. “We could play strip poker.”

“It's too cold for strip poker.” 

Sydney was disappointed with his sensible answer. She was hoping to make him blush.

“You're no fun.”


	7. Chapter 7

Claudia jerked awake in confusion, wondering what had wakened her. Nearby, she could hear Karen snoring softly, and the clock radio on the bedside table said 3:04. She blinked languidly, wondering if it could have been her dream...then, she remembered what she had been dreaming about and knew she definitely wouldn't have wanted to wake from that. Maybe it was the cat.

She listened intently, lying completely still. After a moment, she heard noises coming from downstairs. Convincing herself that it was Mafdet, Claudia let her eyes drift closed. They popped open again when a small, furry object jumped onto the bed with a quiet “meow”, and the noise downstairs sounded once more.

The blood turned to ice in Claudia's veins. As quietly as she could, she sat up, trembling a little. Her eyes searched the darkened room for a weapon. They didn't see anything, so Claudia decided to wake Karen.

She crossed the two feet between their twin beds and crouched to shake her friend's shoulder. Karen mumbled but didn't wake up.

Claudia bent her head and whispered urgently in Karen's ear. “Karen!”

“Just five more minutes, Mom.” This time, Karen's mumble was slightly more coherent.

“Karen, if you don't wake up, we'll be murdered in our beds!”

Her eyes opened. “Mur...”

Her gasp was cut off by Claudia's firm hand against her lips. “Karen, there's someone downstairs.”

Karen gently removed the hand and whispered, “What?”

“There's someone downstairs...and it's not the cat!”

“Are you sure?”

Claudia pointed to her bed where the dim form of Mafdet could just be seen kneading the blankets. At the same time, there was a crash from downstairs.

Karen's eyes widened, but she said hopefully, “Maybe it's just Syd and Nige back from their trip.”

“I don't think so.”

“What should we do?” Karen's voice showed she was as scared as Claudia.

“Well, I'm not sitting up here waiting for someone to come and kill me. We need to go down there and chase him off.”

“How? Neither of us is Sydney.”

Claudia sat on the floor and thought for a moment, her back against Karen's mattress. She bounced off of it a couple of times before saying, “Syd's got to have something that we can use to bonk someone over the head around here.”

“What if he's big and it doesn't work...or he has a gun?”

Claudia looked at her. “Syd wouldn't let that stop her, and neither will we.”

Karen looked skeptical, but said, “Okay.”

“I saw a wooden statue of some sort in Sydney's room. I bet that would pack a punch.”

“I'd feel safer with her crossbow.”

“Well, we don't have it, so think of something else.” She got to her feet. “Are you coming?”

“Yeah. There's a walking stick on the wall in Nigel's room. I'll go get it.” The fear was gone from Karen's face, replaced with determination. “Let's level the creep.”

It startled Claudia briefly to see her lamb-like friend suddenly turn into a lion.

The two of them scrambled as quietly as they could to get the “weapons” they had chosen. The noises of someone moving downstairs got more pronounced, and Claudia had to swallow her fear. The statue was a solid and comforting presence in her hand.

She met Karen at the top of the stairs. Sydney's current secretary was holding the ancient walking stick like she meant business, and the look on her face was almost scary. She nodded grimly to Claudia, and Claudia nodded back.

As they made their way downstairs, Claudia noticed that there were lights on. Whoever was down there wasn't trying to be quiet, so the burglar must have thought the house was empty. She glanced at Karen, who reached over and squeezed her arm supportively. Whatever happened, neither of them was alone.

The sounds were coming from the living room. This was clear as soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs. Someone was rummaging through Sydney's things. Even more importantly, he—or she—was touching Claudia's own things. If that burglar tried to take her new jewelry...

The girls crept forward, silently making their way to the doorway. Claudia reached it first and peeked inside. There she saw a man bent over, taking the pillows off of Sydney's couch. He was slight, with sandy hair and black clothing. 

She jumped through the doorway, screaming and brandishing her wooden statue. This startled Karen, who hopped back with a squeak.

The man turned, barely in time to deflect Claudia's blow at his head with his arm. He hissed in pain and grabbed for her, but she danced out of his way and swung again. This hit him solidly on the shoulder.

“Karen,” Claudia demanded, “Call the police.”

The man knocked Claudia to the floor and made a run for the door. Karen swung as he went passed, clunking him solidly in the head with her stick. He growled but kept going towards the front door. Karen didn't follow, instead she grabbed the phone.

Claudia did run out to the entryway, just to make sure he was leaving. Shrilly, she cried, “And don't come back!”

Behind her, she could hear Karen's rushed, “Someone broke into our house...”

With satisfaction, Claudia put down her figurine, knowing that Sydney would be very proud of them.

XXX

Sydney yawned as she pulled into her driveway. The morning had dawned bright and clear and the snow plow had already gone by when they had woken in the barn for the second time. She had quickly changed into her second set of clothes, and Nigel had donned his now dry clothes from the day before. After eating at a diner near the highway, they were soon on their way home.

It was about noon when they got there, and Sydney couldn't remember ever being so happy to see her house. Even though they had slept at least ten hours while in the barn, she felt as if she could crawl into her bed and sleep for a week.

“Home sweet home, Nigel,” she announced.

He peered out the windshield with a frown, not answering.

“Is there something wrong?”

“Tire tracks.”

“Huh?”

“Look at all the tire tracks.”

It was her turn to peer out at the snow. The sun shining off of it dazzled her eyes a little, but she could see Nigel was right. At least three cars had been there while they were gone. She growled.

“If they threw a party...”

She quickly parked the Jeep and hopped out, not sure whether to be angry or worried. She could see Claudia throwing a party, but Karen had more sense. Besides, there had been no signs of visitors when Sydney had called the day before.

“We'll ask for explanations before I kill them,” she said, suddenly hoping there had been a party.

Nigel nodded, throwing her satchel over his shoulder. He looked very serious, and she wondered if he were also thinking the tracks might prove more sinister.

By the time Sydney made it to the front door, her worry had overcome any hint of anger, though she knew it would come roaring back if the worry was unfounded.

The door was locked. Sydney glanced at Nigel, who shrugged and dug through her satchel for the key.

Before he even found it, the door was flung open and Sydney found herself with an armful of Claudia.

“Sydney! You're back!” The young blond squeezed her so tightly she could barely breathe.

“What happened?” she gasped.

“It was terrible...awful...Oh, Sydney, I was so scared!”

“Are you okay, Claudia? Where's Karen? Is she all right?”

“We're fine,” Claudia assured her, letting her go. “Karen's in the living room cleaning up.”

“Cleaning up?” Nigel asked.

She nodded, her eyes looking large in her pale, pixie-like face. “He made a big mess.”

“Who?” Sydney asked in exasperation.

Claudia looked at her as if she were crazy. “The burglar.”

“The burglar? We had a burglar?”

“Yeah, but he didn't take anything. We caught him before he could.”

“Did you call the police?”

“Of course we did.”

That would explain the tracks in the driveway.

Sydney hurried into the house, Nigel behind her. Even with Claudia's assurances that nothing was taken, she wanted to assess the damage for herself.

She found Karen kneeling on the floor frowning, pieces of a broken vase in her hand. Karen heard Sydney enter the room and turned, holding up the pieces.

“I don't think I can fix this.”

“That's all right. I never liked that hideous thing anyway. Are you okay?”

“Sure, Claudia and I can take care of ourselves.” She got to her feet. “How about you guys? Did you find some place warm to spend the night?”

“We were fine. Are you sure nothing was taken?”

“Not that I can see, though a couple of things were broken and things were scattered around. I got most of them back into place, though Claudia's decided to pack her stuff up from under the tree.”

Sydney had a panicked thought and glanced at the mantel. She heaved a mental sigh when she saw the music box. Then, she went over and checked the secret compartment. Coin and letter were still there as well.

“Do you think this had anything to do with our visit to your uncle yesterday?” Nigel asked.

Sydney turned to him, the coin in her hand. “Do you?”

He shrugged. “It does seem awfully coincidental.”

She nodded in answer. “Maybe we triggered things.”

Karen frowned, causing little lines to appear between her brows. “What kind of things did you run into?”

“Maybe we should compare notes,” Claudia suggested, uncharacteristically the voice of reason.

“Good idea,” Sydney threw herself onto the couch.

Nigel settled beside her, while Karen took Mafdet's chair, with Claudia perching on the arm. Once they were all settled, Sydney outlined her visit with her uncle, emphasizing what he had said about the cougar and the name Harrington.

“Well,” Karen said when Sydney finished, “we did find out some stuff. There's that poem. Plus, there are Harringtons in Clarksville. As a matter of fact, they've lived there since the 1600's...”

“And get this,” Claudia put in, “They own a company called Catamount construction. Guess what their symbol is.”

Nigel suggested, “A hissing cat matching one we found on a hundred year old medallion?”

“Exactly!”

“Matching perfectly,” Karen added.

“Interesting,” Sydney said. “Do you have a copy of the poem?”

Claudia jumped up. “I'll go get it. It's in the TV room.”

That was also the room where Sydney kept her computer.

While Claudia was gone, Sydney asked, “So, what exactly happened last night?”

Karen told her about being awakened by Claudia and about ambushing the thief.

“You should have stayed upstairs and called the police. You could have been hurt!”

“He wasn't that big...and he didn't even have a gun.”

Sydney decided she was definitely going to have to give her friend self defense lessons if she insisted on ambushing burglars.

Claudia was back in minutes, the poem clutched triumphantly in her small had. “Here it is.”

She handed it to Sydney, who leaned close to Nigel so he could read over her shoulder.

_“Darkness comes on an unsuspecting world_  
And something dangerous takes shape  
Claws and teeth and intelligence  
Lives and blood to rend and take 

_It haunts the night_  
It loves the dark  
It longs to tear and crush  
It shies from light  
That stops the heart  
And turns its life to dust 

_The stillness breaks with one shrill cry_  
The victims run but still must die  
The cat is loose to rule with fear  
The moon has risen, the time is near 

_Scream and moan, flesh and bone_  
The prey to bleed as the monster feeds  
It reeks of death, ripping into flesh  
But it cannot stay come light of day” 

“Lovely,” Sydney said sarcastically.

“I hope the poet had a day job,” Nigel agreed.

“I was talking about the subject matter. It's rather gruesome, don't you think?”

“All that rending and blood and nonsense? Do you think it has anything to do with the coin or Melody's disappearance?”

“I have no idea,” Sydney admitted, “but it could. The poem mentions a cat and teeth and claws. My gut tells me it's not coincidence. Who was the author?”

“I don't know,” Claudia said. She looked at Karen.

“I don't know either. It's not there?”

“No,” Sydney told her. “Just the poem. Maybe it's on the website you got it from.”

“I'll check.” This time, Karen jumped up.

“Do you think it's important?” Nigel asked Sydney as Karen left the room.

“Maybe.”

She turned the coin over and studied the words. They were small and worn but still clearly legible. _Darkness. Claws. Teeth. Blood. Haunts. Crush. Heart. Dust. Shrill. Victims. Cat. Moon. Scream. Bone. Feeds._

Karen was back in minutes. They could hear her running down the hallway. Her socks slid a little on the wooden floor, and she almost went right by the door.

Catching herself on the door frame, she gasped, “Harrington. Ezekiel Harrington.”

“Harrington. That can't be a coincidence. Nigel?”

“Yes, Syd?” She could hear knowledge of what she was about to say in his voice.

“Pack your clothes. We're going back to Clarksville. This time, we're going to visit Catamount Construction and poke around a little.”

“Can we come?” Claudia asked, excitement in her eyes.

Sydney looked at Nigel, who shrugged.

“Sure,” she said, “Why not? Karen, please call Clarksville and make us some reservations.”

“On it, Syd.”

“So, what's our MO on this one?” Nigel asked. “Are we going to come right out and ask them about the coin?”

“I don't think so. We don't want them to know we have it. We might have better luck if we claim to be researching the poem—maybe intrigued by the imagery or something. We can always say we ran into information on the coin as part of our research...”

“And, as descendants of the poet, we thought the modern day Harringtons might have some information!” Karen broke in.

“Exactly.”

“Do you think they'll tell us anything?” Nigel asked.

“I don't know, but sometimes you learn as much from what someone doesn't say as from what they do.”

“Are we making the trip back tonight?”

Sydney frowned, thinking about the long drive she had just finished. “No, I don't think so. They won't be open until tomorrow anyway. Make our reservations for tomorrow night, Karen.”

Karen had been waiting by the phone for the final okay. At Sydney's instructions, she picked up the receiver and started dialing. Claudia and Nigel picked this moment to start bickering. Sydney tuned both of them out, and once more her eyes turned to the coin. This time, she focused on the cougar side. A part of her mind, one that sounded an awful lot like Nigel, wondered if she should continue pursuing the mystery. After all, the coin had destroyed at least two lives. Those lives hadn't been perfect, but Nic and Melody had been happy in their own way.

XXX

_Sydney waited at the window, peering into the cold December evening. The air was clear and crisp and stars filled the sky. Even without the aid of the outside light, she was sure she would still see the blanket of snow covering everything and the cheery form of the snowman her mom and dad had helped her make earlier that afternoon. It was wearing her dad's warm hat and Sydney's own blue and purple scarf._

_“Anything yet, Scootchie?” Randall asked from behind her._

_She turned to face him, almost begrudging the time it took her to look away._

_“Not yet. They're coming for sure, right?”_

_“Your Aunt Melody said they'd be here, so they'll be here.”_

_“I can't wait!”_

_Sydney squirmed a little as she went back to looking out of the window. Aunt Melody always had great hugs and pockets full of gum. Uncle Nic never failed to bring her something when he came to visit. Plus, she loved his blue eyes. They seemed to twinkle with laughter even when his face was completely serious. In the back of her mind, Sydney knew her parents didn't love her Uncle Nic like she did. It puzzled her, but she knew she was free to make up her own mind. That was something her father had always stressed._

_“You're a little girl, Scootchie, but that doesn't make you an idiot.” The words went through her mind. “Think things over and trust your gut. I won't always agree with you, but I'll always listen to your side.”_

_It seemed like forever before she saw headlights coming up the driveway._

_“They're here!” She let out a joyous yell, turning from the window and running towards the front door._

_She reached it before they did and danced from foot to foot as she waited for it to open. Seconds stretched into years, but eventually her aunt and uncle pushed their way through the door. Both of them were smiling, and Uncle Nic's hand rested gently on Aunt Melody's shoulder._

_“Is there anyone home?” the latter said in a merry voice._

_“I am!” Sydney announced, throwing herself at her aunt._

_Melody grabbed her and swung her into the air before giving her a firm hug and three kisses._

_“There's my girl. My goodness, Sydney, you're growing so fast.”_

_“I used to be the shortest in my class, but now Deanna Whynot is shorter than me,” she said proudly._

_“Is that so? Pretty soon, you're going to be as tall as your dad.”_

_Sydney's eyes widened. “Do you think so?”_

_“You'll be big and strong and able to beat the bad guys,” Uncle Nic assured her, his eyes twinkling._

_“I hate being small,” Sydney admitted. “Did you bring me anything, Uncle Nic?”_

_“Sydney!” her mom said in a shocked voice from nearby, where she had been watching the exchange._

_This time, Nic did laugh, “It's all right, Rosemarie. I like a little girl with some spunk.”_

_“Does your Uncle Nic ever forget you?” Melody asked, giving Sydney another squeeze before lowering her to the floor._

_“Never,” she replied with firm excitement._

_Her uncle started digging through his pockets, which jingled and jangled in a most intriguing way. Sydney watched him excitedly, wondering if he had forgotten it in the car—or, even worse, back in Clarksville._

_After an eternity, Nic's hand came out of one of his pockets holding a box. It was prettily wrapped in green paper with red ribbon and a big red bow. He bowed with flourish, solemnly presenting the present to her._

_“For you, my lady.”_

_Sydney took it, remembering at the last moment to say, “Thank you.”_

_“You're welcome. I hope you like it.”_

_Sydney immediately set to work ripping off the paper and ribbons. The box was small, but she had learned that many nice things—like her mom and her cat Bijou—were._

_She gasped with delight as the last of the paper fell away and the box was opened to reveal a horse in perfect miniature. Though only about three inches tall, the detail was remarkable. Sydney almost expected it to blink its long, lovely lashes. The horse itself was a deep chestnut with a mane and tail as black as night. She loved it the moment she saw it._

_“It's great! Thank you, Uncle Nic. Thank you, Aunt Melody...Look, Mom!”_

_Her mother knelt to take the tiny horse from Sydney's tanned fingers. “It's beautiful, Sweetheart.”_

_Then, she smiled and handed it back. Sydney cupped it in her hands gently. The smile faded a little as Rosemarie stood up._

_“Merry Christmas, Melody...and Merry Christmas to you, Nic.” Her voice was just a little stiff._

_“Merry Christmas, Rosemarie!” Melody answered, crushing her smaller sister in a firm hug._

_“Yes, Merry Christmas,” Nic repeated. “Thanks for inviting us.”_

_His hand reached out and rested on Rosemarie's shoulder for a moment. She nodded and beckoned them inward._

_“You must be cold. Get out of those wet things and come into the warmth.”_

_They hurriedly discarded their jackets, mittens, and boots. Sydney's mother took the garments and placed them over the vent to dry._

_Nic put his arm around Melody and drew her towards the living room. He smiled at her and winked. “This way, love.”_

_She laughed and said to Sydney, “All right, my little doll, show us to the heat. My toes feel like ice cubes.”_

_Feeling important, Sydney announced, “This way.”_


	8. Chapter 8

It was about eleven the next morning when they arrived in Clarksville. After quickly checking into the inn and dropping off their bags, they piled back into the jeep for the ride to Catamount Construction. Sydney pulled up in front of one of Clarksville's few modern buildings, ignoring Nigel and Claudia's bickering.

“So, remember our story,” she said, pushing the button on her seatbelt.

“We're researching the man who wrote that gross poem,” Claudia piped up.

“We were fascinated by the imagery,” Karen added.

“And we are?”

“Some sort of poetry club,” Nigel answered, fighting with his own seatbelt.

“Okay, I guess we're ready.”

Sydney was sure they made an odd group, standing there on the sidewalk—a tall, thin girl with a wide grin who looked as if she were about to dance in excitement; a small, bespectacled, studious looking man; a shapely blond who looked only half dressed despite the cold; and a black clad, slightly older woman with a satchel. Hopefully, this wouldn't make the Harringtons suspicious.

In the lobby, there was a plastic message board encased in glass that displayed the different offices in the building. Sydney put her fingers to the glass and ran through the list quickly. She could feel the others behind her twitching impatiently.

“It looks like they have the whole third floor.”

She reached into her satchel and withdrew pens and notepads for each of them so that they would look their parts. Then, the four of them crowded into the tiny elevator near the doors and silently rode to the third floor.

The elevator opened to reveal a curly haired, red headed secretary. She looked to be about sixteen, though she was probably closer to twenty, and was pale and freckled. From the desk, two hallways headed in opposite directions, and they were filled with doorways.

At the opening of the doors, the secretary, Amanda Harrington by the nameplate on her desk, looked up. Sydney noticed absently that her eyelashes were so pale that they were almost invisible.

“Yes?” she asked crisply.

Sydney stepped forward, smiling her sweetest smile. “Hello. My name is Sydney, and these are my friends, Nigel, Claudia, and Karen. We were hoping to speak to someone.”

“You're planning a renovation? Or are you building from scratch?”

“Oh, it's nothing like that,” Claudia said, waving her hand.

“We're interested in the family history,” Sydney admitted.

The girl looked puzzled. “Our family history?”

“Yes. We're fans of a poem called “Hunger”. Do you know it? It was written by Ezekiel Harrington about a hundred years ago.”

“Uh...” she said, “One moment...” She picked up the phone and pressed a button. “Dad? There's a group of people here who want to talk to you about Ezekiel Harrington...They say their names are Sydney, Nigel, Claudia, and Karen...No last names...Are you sure?” Her puzzled look deepened. “All right. You're the boss.”

Sydney kept the frozen smile on her face as the secretary hung up the phone. “Will he see us?”

“Yeah. Go on in. He's the third door on the left, down that hallway.”

“Thank you very much, Amanda,” Karen said, her smile a lot more genuine than Sydney's.

At the door the secretary had indicated, Sydney knocked, fixing her fake smile more firmly on her face. She glanced at Nigel, who made a face and her and whispered, “You look like a jack-o-lantern.”

“Shut up,” she hissed, “and smile.”

Claudia giggled behind her.

“Come in,” came a voice from the other side of the door, cutting off any reply Nigel might have made.

Sydney threw all of her friends a 'behave yourselves' look before turning the knob. Behind the door, she found a tall man in his fifties rising to meet them. She studied his face, which was long and thin, though not unattractive. His eyes were the same green as his daughter's, but his hair was more blond than red.

He smiled, crinkly lines appearing at the side of his eyes. “Hello, come in. My name is Alfred Harrington. Amanda said you have some questions.”

“Yes, Mr. Harrington, about one of your ancestors and his poem called “Hunger”.”

“Oh, yes, Ezekiel Harrington, the poet.”

“We're part of a poetry club from Boston,” Nigel told him, “and we find the imagery of “Hunger” amazing—all that ripping and blood and so on.”

“Yes, all of my great grandfather's poems were like that.”

“So, he was your great grandfather?” Karen asked with so much enthusiasm that even Sydney almost believed it was real.

“Unfortunately.” He then indicated a group of five chairs. “Please, sit. What would you like to know about Ezekiel?”

“Oh, anything you can tell us,” Sydney said as they took the offered seats. “We'd just like to have some interesting information to bring to our group.”

“Interesting, huh? Well, Ezekiel was nothing if not interesting. They said he had awful, terrible nightmares of being eaten alive by some sort of beast.”

Sydney glanced at Nigel, who was sitting beside her, before asking, “What kind of beast?”

“I have no idea. It certainly makes his poetry make more sense at any rate. Which poem was it you said you found so enthralling?”

“'Hunger',” Karen reminded him.

“And where did you find it?”

“On the Internet while searching out early twentieth century poets.”

“His poetry wasn't widely published. It's surprising you found any at all.”

“Too gory?” Nigel asked.

“I think it had more to do with my great grandfather himself. You can't continue to make conversation about death without eventually being considered mad.”

“Speaking of mad,” Nigel continued, “while researching your family, we came across the story of a Nicholas Parker. Do you know him?”

Harrington seemed to go into thought for a moment. “I believe I do know the name. If I remember right, he used to work for my father about...maybe twenty-five years ago. He did odd jobs and the like. He wasn't very reliable, and I seem to recall he was a bit of a gambler. My nephew took a liking to him and followed him around a lot. Didn't his wife leave him and drive him insane? Tragic, really.”

Sydney clenched her teeth, letting Nigel answer for her once again. “We heard that his wife disappeared...that she may even have been....”

“Murdered!” Claudia piped up loudly.

Harrington shrugged. “That may be so. It was so long ago, I can't be sure.”

“Well,” Sydney said, still trying to hold on to her forced smile. “They say he rambles on and on about a coin or medallion of some sort. Since his last lucid memories are from when he worked for you, we were wondering if the two of them were connected.”

“Coin? What kind of coin?”

“Not money,” Karen said brightly. “More of a medallion, really. It has a cougar on it...well, from what the crazy guy says.”

Harrington shrugged and shook his head. “I don't know anything about a coin.”

He was obviously lying. Sydney wondered if the others caught it.

“That's too bad,” she said. “It was an interesting mystery. What does a coin with a cougar on it have to do with a poem written so long ago? What can you tell us about Ezekiel?”

They spent the next fifteen minutes listing to Alfred talk about a depraved man who suffered from delusions and paranoia, one who was fascinated by death and the spilling of blood. Alfred seemed to relish telling these things, but even so, Sydney could tell he was leaving something out.

Karen took notes diligently while Nigel and Claudia asked questions. Sydney listened very carefully to the answers. Harrington gave almost no clues as to why the coin was so important or why her aunt had disappeared because of it.

Sydney's eyes narrowed as she watched Harrington. He would have been in his twenties back then. Had he personally had something to do with Melody's disappearance? Had he killed her himself? Of course, all they had to go on in believing that the disappearance was somehow connected to the coin and the Harringtons were the feverish ramblings of a lunatic. But, if Harrington didn't have anything to hide, why had he lied to them about the coin, and why was he still lying about his great grandfather?

Harrington was just finishing up a particularly gruesome story when he glanced at his watch.

“I'm sorry,” he said, “but I have another appointment in ten minutes. I hope you have enough to take back to your club.”

“More than enough,” Karen gushed.

“Good. Good.” Harrington looked at the petite secretary with interest, and a chill went down Sydney's spine at the glint of hunger she saw in his eyes.

“We must go, anyway,” Sydney replied, grabbing Karen by the arm and steering her towards the door. “Thank you for your time.”

“If you have any other questions, be sure to come see me again.”

“Oh, we will,” Nigel assured him.

“Good-bye,” Sydney threw over her shoulder, pushing Karen ahead of her. She heard Nigel and Claudia also saying good-bye behind her.

The four of them were silent until they reached the elevator, only sparing the secretary, Amanda, the barest of waves.

As soon as the doors closed, Karen demanded, “What was that all about?”

“What was what about?” Sydney asked innocently.

Instead of babbling at her feigned misunderstanding as Nigel would have done, Karen just crossed her arms and gave her a look.

“I just don't like that guy, all right?”

“I didn't like him much myself,” Nigel agreed. “Did you see his creepy eyes?”

Claudia shivered. “Like they could look right through you.”

It wasn't only Harrington's eyes that made Sydney's spider sense tingle. There was something about the man, despite his being pleasant enough, that told her he was dangerous.

“Do you think we learned anything useful?” Nigel asked. “Or was this a waste of time?”

“I'm not sure if we actually learned anything we can use, but I don't think it was a waste of time. If we could only find out what he didn't say, I'm sure we'd have all the answers. I think he knows what happened to my aunt.”

“You do?”

“Yes. He was obviously lying when he spoke of Melody's disappearance—and when he denied knowledge of the coin.”

“Where do we go from here?” Claudia asked.

“Nigel?”

“Look in the local archives to see if we can find any references to either the coin or the poem?”

“Right. And newspapers from the time my aunt disappeared. There may be mention of something we can use.”

“But first lunch?” Nigel asked hopefully.

Sydney rolled her eyes. “Yes, we'll eat first. I saw a little diner just down the road a bit. We should be able to walk from here.”

Claudia curled her nose. “The sidewalks are slushy.”

“Would you rather cut across the playground?” This was about knee deep in snow it had gathered in the blizzard.

“The sidewalk's fine.”

Nigel smirked at her, so she stuck her tongue out at him. Karen looked at Sydney helplessly.

“Oh, this is nothing. They get worse. They've been on their best behaviour because of Christmas.”

“You love us, Syd, and you know it,” Claudia announced, throwing one expensively clad arm around Sydney's shoulders.

Sydney fought another eyeroll and surprisingly succeeded. The thing was, she did love them. The three of them were more precious to her than if they had actually been born family. Claudia and Karen could have been her sisters, and her feelings for Nigel were extremely complicated. A sudden impulse made Sydney reach up and pinch Claudia's nose as if she were a child.

“I love you more when you behave.”

Claudia's eyes widened momentarily, and then she laughed and gave Sydney a gentle push. “Syd!”

The four of them made their way down the sidewalk towards a sign that proudly said, “Flora's Diner”. There weren't very many people out, despite the time of day and the appearance of the sun.

One man that passed them turned and stared briefly. He was about Sydney's age, or a little older, with sandy hair and a handsome face. His eyes were a startling green. She was drawn to them and, even though she told herself it was annoyance at being stared at, a part of her denied this was the reason. She met those eyes, and the man blushed and turned away to continue on. She stopped and watched him for a moment.

Nigel's hand on her arm made her start. “Syd?”

“That man was staring at us.”

Nigel smirked for the second time in five minutes. “Of course he was. How often does a man get to see three women like you all at once? You probably made his day.”

“Was that a compliment?” Claudia asked, feigning surprise.

Karen did the same, answering, “I think it was.”

“Must be the hunger,” Nigel replied.

“Must be,” Sydney agreed.

The diner had only a few people in it, despite the fact that it was lunch time. There was a table full of teenagers, laughing and showing off, another table with a harried young couple with three children, and a woman sitting alone and drinking coffee.

There was one waitress, probably in her late forties, wearing a cheesy pink uniform and a pristine white apron. Her hair was dark and piled up on top of her head.

She came over quickly, bringing their menus. Her eyes scanned them over quickly.

“You're not from around here, are you?” She opened with.

“How do you know?” Karen asked curiously.

“I've been working in this diner for thirty years, and pretty much everyone in town eats here sooner or later. You get to know the faces.” She then studied Sydney for a few extra seconds. “You do look familiar, though. Have you been in here before?”

“No, I haven't...I used to have relatives in town, though.”

“Really? Names?”

“Melody and Nic Parker.”

Surprise went over her face. “Oh, yes! I did know them. Melody was a friend of mine. We weren't that close, but we used to belong to the same fitness club. Once in awhile, we went to the movies or shopping. When she disappeared...The whole town searched for her, but she was never found...but then, you knew that...” She trailed off, looking as if she thought she might have gone too far.

“You knew her? Did she seem agitated before her disappearance?”

“Is that what you're in town for? To find out what happened to her?”

Sydney nodded. “Can you tell me anything?”

The waitress glanced at the counter, where a big man was glaring at her. “Not now. George hates me talking to the customers. I don't know much, but if you want to talk about Melody, I'm off tomorrow. Come by my place; I'll write the address for you when I bring the bill.”

“Thanks.”

As she walked away, Karen whispered, “Well, that was quite a coincidence.”

“I'm wondering if it's too much of a coincidence.”

“I guess we'll find out tomorrow,” Nigel said.

They sat and ate their meal, and the waitress brought them her address with the bill as she had promised. Sydney thanked her, and the four of them left to find the library, which turned out to be closed on Mondays.

“I guess that's another thing that has to wait until tomorrow,” Sydney sighed. 

“Don't worry, Syd,” Claudia said perkily, “I'm sure there's something to do in Clarksville—like shopping!”

“Does this look like a hot shopping spot to you?” Sydney asked.

“Not really, but you never know.”

“I do not want to go shopping,” Nigel protested firmly.

“How about a movie?” Karen suggested.

“Something about blood sucking ghouls?” Claudia said hopefully.

“Claudia,” Nigel answered in exasperation, “you've got to stop watching horror movies. They give you nightmares.” All three women looked at him in surprise, so he just shrugged and continued, “If you had to listen to her ranting about them as many times as I have...”

The four of them wandered off to find a matinée, still lightly bickering. Afterwards, they went back to the hotel and gathered in Sydney's room to talk about their current hunt. They went over their clues, from the letter, to the poem, to the coin, to Nic, to the Harringtons. Something was missing in all of it, and somehow the cougar was supposed to give them some much needed answers.

Sydney held it in her hand and studied it as she had so many times since its discovery. It was the key, but the key to what, she had no idea. She didn't even know where to find the lock. She just hoped Clarksville wouldn't prove to be a dead end.

“I'd still like to find out what Alfred Harrington knows that he's not telling us. Maybe I should pay him another visit.”

Nigel reached out and gently took the coin from her. “We should find out what we can from the library and the waitress first, don't you think?”

“Yeah. You're right, Nigel.”

“But we can't find out anything from them until tomorrow,” Claudia said. “I'm bored.”

“You could have gone back to New York,” Nigel reminded her.

“And miss out on the fun? No way!”

Sydney lay back on the bed, her hands linked behind her head. Karen was sitting in the room's only chair, an old, faded, and well padded thing. Nigel was sitting on the floor, his back resting against Sydney's mattress. Claudia was perched on Karen's chair arm, her long legs swinging back and forth, barely missing Nigel.

“So, what do you want to do?” Karen asked her.

“I don't know. Syd, what do you and Nigel do on hunts in your down time?”

Sydney turned her head to look at her, but it was Nigel who answered, “Down time? What down time?”

“There must be some time when you're not hunting.”

“Then, we rest.”

“Or, in Nigel's case,” Sydney teased. “We drink.”

“What?” Claudia and Karen exclaimed together.

“Oh, the stories I could tell if I were not an honourable woman,” she continued. “I can't tell you how many times I had to undress him and put him to bed.”

“Syd!” Nigel sounded appalled. “Don't listen to her. I may have been drunk ten times in the last four years. That's not a lot.”

“It's because he can't hold his liquor,” Karen said seriously.

“Don't you start. What is this? The pick on Nigel holiday?” He actually pouted as he said this.

Sydney rolled over on her side, reaching over to ruffle his hair, “But it's so much fun.”

“It's not like I couldn't tell some stories on you of my own.” At those words, Sydney's ruffle turned into a gentle pull.

“Oh,” Claudia looked way more interested in Sydney's indiscretions than Nigel's.

“Nigel,” Sydney said sharply.

“What's good for the goose,” he replied smugly.

“Geese don't sign your pay cheque.”

Claudia laughed. “She's got you there.”

“Yes. I think we should talk about something else before I fall any further behind. Have you still got those cards in your satchel, Syd?”

“Sure. Why? Do you want to play?”

“It's an idea.”

“Can we play...” This again was Claudia, but Nigel cut her off.

“No.”

“But...”

“No.”

“It'll be...”

“No.”

“You're no fu...”

“No.”

“All right. Fine. What do you want to play?”

“How about rummy?”

“Rummy, is that a drinking game?”

“Certainly not!”

Sydney held up her hand, stalling Claudia's next question. “We'll show you how to play.”


	9. Chapter 9

After playing for several hours, the game still showed no signs of stopping. They took a break, agreeing that they'd all be more comfortable in their pajamas, especially since they were playing on the floor.

Claudia entered her room thinking it seemed strange not to be followed by Karen. At the inn, each woman—and Nigel—had her own room.

She picked up her very large suitcase and threw it on the bed with a heavy thump. Rummaging through it, she tried to keep everything neat and folded so nothing would get wrinkled as she looked for her pajamas. 

Claudia found them and quickly threw off her top and wiggled out of her tight jeans. She was ahead and didn't want to miss the start of the next hand. It wasn't very often she got to beat Sydney or Nigel at anything. 

She paused in the act of slipping on her pajama top and sighed. That was one problem with having friends who were so smart, not to mention the fact that one was almost perfect and the other was always leaving her behind when they had a contest of wits. Karen was a relief, really, because, even though she and Claudia were so very different, Karen was so normal. Despite the fact that she was a single parent to an almost teenager, she was easy to understand and easy to relate to.

Finishing her motion, Claudia decided that even with their strange quirks, she would never trade Nigel or Sydney for anyone. She was so glad her father had decided she needed a job to learn responsibility. If he hadn't, she never would have met the best friends she'd ever had—and the only people who actually took her seriously. Claudia smiled at that thought. Well, most of the time.

Her fingers flew as she did the buttons. She hurried because she heard Karen's door open and wanted to get back to the fun. She was going to check her hair first, when a glint at the window caught her eye.

Puzzled, Claudia went to look. She was on the second floor, and the only thing that was supposed to be out there was an ancient maple tree, one that grew so close that its branches brushed the pane.

The night was overcast and only a few brave stars managed to break through and twinkle down on the town below. A wind was blowing and Claudia could hear the tree creak alarmingly, even with the window closed.

She peered out, more than a little nervous, and thought Nigel was right about her susceptibility to horror movies.

That's when she saw it—a huddled white mass amid all the darkness. At first, she didn't know what it was, and she thought it might be a discarded plastic bag. As she stared at it, features began to emerge, and she realized it was a skinny and battered cat.

Immediately, Claudia felt sorry for him. It was cold and, though it wasn't actually snowing, the wind was blowing up clouds of the stuff. It dusted the cat's small body, making Claudia shiver.

Quickly, she slipped into her slippers and pulled on the satiny pink robe she had brought with her. Now layered against the wind, she opened the window, blowing out through her mouth and blinking rapidly as snow blew up into her face.

“Kitty,” she said, “Here, kitty, kitty.”

The cat regarded her solemnly, moving nothing, not even his eyes. It was almost as if he had been watching her through the window.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” she said again, hoping to lure him inside and into the warmth

When he still didn't stir, she started thinking he might not be able to get out of the tree. What if he had climbed up and gotten stuck, and that was why he didn't like the idea of crossing the branches to get to the window?

Claudia reached out the window, beckoning with her arms and calling to him. He stood up on the branch, but didn't come nearer. Claudia reached out, but she was too far away to even come close to reaching him.

It only took a split second to decide what she had to do. Without another thought, she scrambled up onto the window sill and climbed out onto the nearest branch. It made threatening noises but held her slight weight.

The wet snow immediately soaked through both her robe and her pajamas to reach her bare skin. Goose bumps sprung up on every inch of her—she thought she could even feel them on her earlobes.

“Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.”

Even so, she was committed to her course of action. She moved around the branch until she was in a position to crawl her way along. At one point, she teetered and was sure she would drop from the tree. She grasped desperately at branches, holding on for dear life.

Once sure she was safe, if slightly frozen, Claudia started inching her way forward, towards the cat. She got about half way to him when he started making his way down the tree.

“Hey!” Claudia cried. “Wait.”

The cat didn't listen. In fact, he seemed to begin moving faster. She tried to do the same, but she was too afraid of falling. The cat had reached the ground before she even reached the trunk. Claudia sat there for a moment, literally freezing her butt off, with her arms wrapped around the trunk, trying to decide what to do next. 

The sensible thing would have been to make her way back to the window, but she kept seeing how cold and forlorn the cat had looked.

Throwing one last longing look back at her window, she began climbing down the tree. The going was slow. Her slippers weren't exactly climbing gear, and they slipped often. Sometimes, only wildly gripping with her legs or arms saved her from a terrible fall.

By the time she reached the ground, her arms and legs were trembling as much from effort as from cold. The wind blew against her wet clothes and seemed to cut right to the bone. Her legs were calf deep in snow, and it filled her slippers.

She looked around calling, “Kitty, kitty...”

A faint meow made its way to her ears. She peered around. The blowing snow clung to her face and lashes, making it hard to see. She pulled her useless robe around her thin body.

It took her almost a full minute to see the white cat against the just as white snow.

“Kitty, kitty...” she said again, crouching down and rubbing her fingers together.

He looked at her before turning and taking off into the nearby trees.

“No, kitty. Wait.”

She took off after him, forgetting how numb her feet had become, and the wind-caused tears freezing on her cheeks. The branches snatched at her clothing, but she kept the cat in sight. There was no way he was going to outrun her!

XXX

Sydney was sitting cross legged on the floor with her back propped against her bed when Nigel came back in. She was absently shuffling the cards and listening to the howl of the wind. Her mind was full of things she had never considered—like what her aunt had really been like, what her life was like, and would they have liked each other. Before this, her aunt was a vague memory of a woman she had loved fiercely, as a little girl loves, but she wasn't really a flesh and blood person. At least, not one with loves and hates and a life and a husband. Thinking of these things made Sydney want to find out what happened to her even more.

Nigel was wearing red silk pajamas and a matching pair of slippers. She whistled at him teasingly. “Looking good.”

He made an incredibly silly face at her. She reciprocated, sticking out her tongue and crossing her eyes. Nigel laughed and came to settle beside her.

“I can't believe Claudia is clobbering me,” he commented.

“Us,” Sydney corrected. “All three of us—and she's never even played before! Who'd have thought she'd pick it up so quickly?”

“Certainly not me.”

“Just when I have her figured out, she surprises me.”

“Me too,” he admitted.

They sat there for a moment before Sydney elbowed Nigel gently. He glanced at her with a question in his eyes.

“Thanks for helping me find the answers,” she said, knowing he'd understand what she meant. “you didn't have to. After all, you're supposed to be on vacation.”

“Well, I couldn't have you running around all by yourself, now, could I? Who knows what kind of trouble you'd get into?”

“Nigel.” She elbowed him again, this time a little harder.

“Seriously, Syd. I wouldn't want to be doing anything else.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

This was why he was her best friend.

They lapsed into companionable silence, their shoulders touching and Sydney still shuffling the cards. Nigel picked up the pad and pencil they had been keeping score with and started doodling.

After a few minutes, he asked, “I wonder what's keeping Claudia and Karen.”

“I don't know,” Sydney shrugged. “Maybe they want to make themselves sexy for you.”

She grinned at him evilly but, instead of blushing, Nigel looked at her and deadpanned, “Maybe there's something we don't know and they're making themselves sexy for you.”

Once again, they shared a round of face making. Sydney felt like a little kid and wondered what her students would think if they could see her acting so silly. Nigel did that to her sometimes. He could bring out the mother in her, he could bring out the child in her, and sometimes he could bring out the Sydney that was unsure and vulnerable.

“What are you two doing?” Karen asked, coming in, the amusement plain in her voice.

“Having a face making contest,” Sydney told her. “Want to play?”

“Didn't your parents ever tell you your face would freeze that way?”

“All the time. It made me want to do it more so I could see how long it would take to happen.”

“Really? That threat terrified me. I could just imagine all the kids making fun of me.”

Karen folded gracefully, crossing her legs and settling across from them, her back against the chair. Out of the corner of her eye, Sydney caught Nigel watching Karen with appreciation. She felt a little pang and wondered if it were jealousy.

“Someone should have bought some snacks,” Karen said, unmindful of Nigel's gaze.

“If you said something earlier, I would have run across the road to the store,” he said. “Unless you want me to get dressed...?”

“No, don't bother on my account.”

“It's all right, Nigel.” Sydney held on to his shirt sleeve to keep him from rising. “We'll survive.”

He nodded and asked Karen, “Did you see Claudia on your way here? Even she can't take that long to change.”

Karen shrugged. “Maybe she needed a potty break.”

“Or maybe she collapsed from not saying, 'Oh, my God!' once this whole holiday.”

“Nigel,” Sydney admonished. “Be nice.”

“Thus says the woman who was just sticking out her tongue and crossing her eyes at me.”

“I think you both need a good spanking,” Karen teased, her blue eyes twinkling.

“Nigel would like that, wouldn't you, Nigel?”

This finally got the blush she was craving. If flamed across his face in a red wave.

“Well, I certainly vote for giving Sydney a good spanking.”

“Do you hear that, Karen? He's volunteering.”

He sighed dramatically. “All right. Come, bend over my knee.”

Sydney moved to do just that, and he gave her a push and an embarrassed laugh. “All right. I give up. You two have bested me once again.”

She reached over and pinched his cheek. “And we always will. Don't forget it.”

“Hard to when you lord it over me every...”

Nigel's comment was cut off by a shrill scream. Everyone froze for a moment as the same thought raced through each mind. That scream had been Claudia—and it came from outside.

Sydney was the first to jump to her feet. Needlessly, she said, “That was Claudia!”

Pausing only to slip on her boots, and not looking to see if the others were following, she dashed from the room to the elevator. Karen and Nigel got there just a few seconds after her, and Sydney impatiently pushed the button.

What was Claudia doing outside? And more urgently, what had caused her to scream?

Briefly, as they got out of the elevator, Sydney considered the receptionist's reaction to three people hurrying through the lobby in their pajamas, though Karen had thought to throw on her coat. She dismissed the thought immediately, too worried about Claudia to care.

Sydney yanked open the front door, and cold air hit her like a wall. She shivered but didn't even take time to rub her arms as she ran in the direction of Claudia's scream. Claudia's tracks were visible in the snow, showing Sydney she was going in the right direction. The tracks led towards the forest at the back of the hotel.

“Claudia!” Sydney called, entering the trees.

“I'm here, Syd.”

Sydney stopped short, almost running into her friend, who was just a shadow in what light made it through the thick branches. 

“Claudia, what's going on?” Sydney demanded. “You scared me half to death!”

The small blond pointed and Sydney suddenly realized they were not alone in the trees. Standing just a few feet away, leaned against a nearby trunk, stood the man they had passed on the sidewalk earlier.

“What's going on?” Nigel echoed as he and Karen noisily joined the group.

“I was coming to see you.” The man had a soft voice. “I live on the other side of this wood and was taking a short cut. I ran into her—almost literally.”

“Coming to see us?” Sydney asked in puzzlement.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Uh, Syd,” Nigel said, “Can we talk about this inside? We're all in our pajamas—and Claudia looks half frozen.”

Sydney took a good look at Claudia and saw that Nigel was right. Her pajamas and robe were soaked right through and clung to her thin frame, which was shivering uncontrollably. Her hand, robe, and bits of her face were streaked with dirt. Her hair was as wet as the rest of her and had plastered itself to her skull.

“And what are you doing out here half dressed, young lady?”

“It's a long story,” she answered through chattering teeth.

“One that can also wait until we're inside,” Sydney declared. “Let's go.” She motioned to the man. “You too.”

The five of them trooped back to the hotel with Sydney keeping a good eye on Claudia, hoping her young friend wouldn't catch pneumonia. 

As they entered, the green eyed man said, “I need to talk to you in private. It's important that no one else hear me.”

“Fine. We'll meet you in Nigel's room. Show him the way, Nigel.”

“Okay, Syd.”

The men went into Nigel's room, while the women hustled Claudia inside hers. She protested that she was fine, but Sydney supervised her getting out of her wet things while Karen went to the bathroom to draw her a very hot bath.

“What were you thinking?” Sydney asked sternly, wrapping Claudia in a towel while they waited for the tub to fill.

“There was a cat. He looked so miserable that I just had to rescue him.”

“A cat?”

“Yes. He was in the tree outside my room, and he looked awful cold and chilled.”

“So, you...”

Claudia looked sheepish. “Climbed into the tree after him, and then followed him into the woods.”

Sydney shook her head. “I can't fault your heart, but next time get dressed and wear a jacket before you go climbing trees in the middle of winter.” She looked at Claudia's slightly torn hands and winced. “And wear mittens.”

“I wasn't thinking.”

Karen came out of the bathroom then. “Water's ready. You'll feel a million times better afterward.”

“We'll be in Nigel's room. Call if you need anything,” Sydney added.

She suddenly realized that she had left Nigel alone with a complete stranger, and someone that might not exactly have their best interests at heart. Worried, she left Claudia to Karen's tender care and made her way to Nigel's room.

He was sitting on his bed, changing his socks. He had already changed his pajamas and looked at her critically when she came in. 

“You're all snowy, Syd. You're going to catch a cold.”

She waved this off, turning her attention to their visitor. He was sitting in Nigel's chair and looking slightly agitated. His face was pale, and he twined and untwined his fingers. His sandy hair was damp and unruly from the blowing snow.

“You came to see us?” she asked.

He sat up straighter and regarded Sydney for a moment. Then, he glanced at Nigel, who helpfully said, “Spill it.”

The man swallowed and replied, “You shouldn't be here. None of you should be here. You're in danger.”

“Danger?” Sydney asked. “What kind of danger?”

“They know you have the coin. They won't hesitate to kill you for it.” His tone was earnest and urgent.

“What coin?” This time, her voice was innocent.

The man raised his compelling green eyes to hers. “I overheard them talking. Someone's been watching Nic Parker for twenty-five years. Watching and hoping one of his ramblings would reveal where the coin was hidden. When you went to visit him, it was like a Christmas gift to them.”

“Them? Who's them?” Nigel asked, but Sydney held up her hand.

“First, who are you?”

“My name is Chad Harrington, but most people just call me Cougar.”

Sydney froze and felt her eyes widen. “Wh...what did you say?”

She couldn't remember ever feeling so floored.

It was the man's turn to look puzzled. “I said my name is Cougar Harrington. Is there something wrong?”

Sydney met Nigel's eyes and saw her own epiphany in them.

“Did you know Nic Parker, Cougar?” she asked almost breathlessly.

He smiled a faint, self mocking smile. “Yes. You see, this whole thing—the coin being stolen, Melody's death, Nic's institutionalization—it's all my fault. I started everything in motion, and I don't want anyone else hurt because of me.”

This time, Sydney had to sit down. She made her way across the room and sat beside Nigel. 

After a moment, she asked softly, “Melody's death?”

“Yes. They killed her when she wouldn't tell them where the coin was. They thought they would be able to get answers from Nic. They didn't figure on Melody's death driving him insane.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“It was a long time ago, some of it is fuzzy—I was only ten. I'll tell you what I remember, and why everything is my fault...”

Karen entered at that point and stopped short as she examined the faces in the room. “What's going on?”

“Karen,” This was Nigel, “meet Cougar Harrington. He's going to tell us what happened twenty-five years ago.”

The significance of the man's name didn't seem to click to her as she just asked, “He knows?”

Sydney nodded. “He knows.”

Karen came over and sat on Sydney's other side. At the pronouncement of her aunt's death, she had felt shaky, as if part of her had held out hope even after all those years. Sandwiched between her friends, she suddenly felt stronger.

Cougar seemed nervous at having another observer. He drew a hand through his shaggy hair, making it stand up in all directions. If he had been a student, Sydney might have felt sorry for him. As it was, she just stated, “Go on.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes suddenly haunted. “Nic Parker worked for my grandfather. He did odd jobs, both legal and...well, not so legal. I liked him. Looking back, I guess he must have been a kid person because he let me follow him around and talked to me like I had a mind. I wasn't used to people wanting me around.

'We talked a lot. He talked mostly about his wife, and I talked about my life. For awhile, after the coin had been stolen, I thought he had used me, and I was very angry. Now, I think he just saw an opportunity and impulsively took it. You see, I'm the one who told him about the coin.”

His eyes looked right into Sydney's, and for just a moment, they were so intense that she could almost sense something else behind them—something dangerous, but not necessarily unpleasant. 

“Can you tell us about the coin?” Karen asked.

His eyes flicked from Sydney's face to hers. “It was a family heirloom, made in the early 1900s by my great great grandfather. The lore behind it said it was the key to a great treasure. He'd hidden it away behind clues. One was the coin; the other was a poem.”

“'Hunger',” Sydney interrupted.

Cougar shook his head. “No. “Hunger” is the key to the coin. The location of the treasure is hidden in another.

'I told Nic about the coin, but I also told him about the poems...I think he figured out the answer. After all that time, when my own family couldn't reason it out, he did. So, he stole the coin.” He looked back down at his hands and started twining them together again. “It didn't take long for my grandfather to figure out who had taken the coin. He sent some of his men to find Nic, but he had gone to Vegas. Instead, they found...”

“Melody,” Sydney whispered.

“Yes.”

“So, what happened?”

“They watched her, hoping she'd lead them to Nic. It was a week before they realized that she knew where the coin was and might even have it herself. Then,” His voice turned bleak, “they took her.”

Sydney winced at his tone, noticing that Cougar's face paled, making his eyes look even greener.

After a moment, he continued, “They tried to get her to tell them where the coin was, but she wouldn't. I think she was sure that Nic would come save her, but he didn't. They...they broke her, and then they killed her.”

Sydney felt her own face pale as she thought of her joyous aunt, a woman who was always full of smiles and laughter.

“What did they do with her body?” she asked tightly.

“I'm sorry. I don't know....I saw them take her out, but I...” He stopped for a moment before saying, “I wish that I could tell you. I know she was your aunt. After that, Nic lost touch with reality, and no one could get anything coherent from him. Now, somehow, the coin has come into your hands. You need to go...get out of Clarksville, or my uncle will try to take it from you. And once he does, he'll kill you all.”

Sydney dismissed this, asking, “About the second poem?”

Cougar frowned. “I'm not going to tell you.”

“You've come all this way, told us all of this, and you're not going to tell us the last piece of the puzzle?”

His voice was firm. “No. I won't have more deaths on my conscience.”

“Didn't you just say that they intend to kill us anyway?”

“That's why you have to go. If you go back to where you came from, maybe they won't be able to find you.” Obviously, Cougar didn't know about the break in.

Nigel surprised Sydney by answering, “We've never run from our problems, and we won't now. Maybe if we find this treasure, we'll have something to bargain for our lives with.”

Sydney backed him up immediately. “Nigel's right. This is what we do. We've never let fear get in the way, and we won't now.”

Cougar shook his head. “Fools.”

“We've been called worse.”

Suddenly, the man's head tilted to the side and a startled and frightened look came to his face. He hopped to his feet, zipping his jacket. 

“I've done what I intended. What happens next is up to you. If you die, it won't be my fault. Not. My. Fault.”

He then turned and fled from the room. Sydney jumped up, using Nigel's and Karen's shoulders as spring boards, and hurried across the room.

“Wait!”

Going through the door, she met something solid that let out a startled squeak. Arms tangled and heads knocked, causing Sydney to wince in pain.

She extricated herself from the barrier and discovered it was a damp and towel-headed Claudia.

“Syd, what's...”

She gently moved Claudia to the left and peered into the hallway beyond. It was empty.

“Where'd he go?”

Puzzled, Claudia asked slowly, “Where'd who go?”

“Cougar...The man you found in the woods.”

“I didn't see him.”

“How could you have missed him?”

“Honestly, I didn't see him. Maybe he went the other way or something.”

“He didn't have time...”She looked the other way anyway, not surprised when there was no sign of Cougar.

“Syd?” Nigel asked.

She turned back to look at him, shaking her head. “He's gone.”

“Did I miss something?” Claudia looked first at Sydney, then Nigel, then Karen.

“Only everything,” the latter told her cheerily.

“What does that mean?”

So Sydney explained to her everything Cougar had said, ending with, “I'll understand if you and Karen want to go home and pretend you're not part of this. I hate putting you in danger.”

“When we're this close?” Claudia demanded at the same time Karen cried, “Syd!”

“Nigel?” she asked.

“Don't think you're leaving me behind.”

“Okay, what's going on with you three? You never used to want to throw yourselves into danger.”

Claudia threw one long arm around Sydney's shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “We've been friends with you too long.”

“You all know that this is a personal thing and not a work thing. No one has to be here.”

Karen came up on Sydney's other side and put her arm over Claudia's so that she was also hugging Sydney. “That's why we want to be.”

Sydney slipped her own arms around each girl to hug them back. “Thanks.”

Nigel still sat on the bed. A grin came to his face and his eyes sparkled at their hug. 

“Want to join us, Nigel?” Sydney asked him teasingly.

In response, both Karen and Claudia held out an arm to him. His grin turned to a laugh as he came over to join the group hug.

It lasted several minutes, but Nigel's laugh was catching and the others couldn't help but join in. It started with muffled giggles from Karen and escalated until they couldn't hold on to one another because of their laughter.

Sydney had been feeling slightly out of sorts since having it confirmed that her aunt had really died—and had, in actuality, been murdered. Now, she felt lighter and happier. She was glad she wasn't on this hunt alone.

Their laughter lasted longer than it might have because they were all having trouble looking in one another's eyes without starting the giggling again.

When they could finally control the laughter, Claudia settled in the chair Cougar had vacated and Sydney, Nigel, and Karen sat back on the bed. Despite the seriousness of their situation, they were all smiling.

“So, Syd, what do we do now?” Karen asked. “Without that other poem, we don't know where to go next.”

“No,” she admitted, “But I know someone who does.”

XXX

Once more, Sydney and Nigel found themselves driving up to the cheery farmhouse that represented the institution of Shady Acres. The place looked exactly the same as it had a couple of days before, right down to the pale faces peeking out of the windows.

“I don't know about you, Nige,” Sydney commented, jumping out of the jeep and slamming the door, “but I'm getting a very strong feeling of deja vu.”

“As long as we don't run into any more blizzards, I'll be happy.”

Karen and Claudia had still been sleeping when Sydney and Nigel left the inn. The night before, while making plans, Karen had mentioned the almost forgotten waitress. It was decided that the relic hunters would leave for the institution as early as possible and then go to see the waitress when they got back.

Sydney and Nigel hurried up the walkway in the chill air. Though it wasn't snowing, it was cold enough for Sydney to wrap her arms around herself against the wind. She heard Nigel behind her, picking his way cautiously, and it was a comforting, familiar sound.

The same nurse was in the reception area. Sydney stopped for a moment, causing Nigel to lightly bump her from behind, to regard her. Was she Harrington's informant? She seemed nice enough, but Sydney had been fooled before. 

Nurse Blackmore looked up, her stern face softening as she saw Sydney and Nigel.

“Oh, it's you.”

“Yes, good morning.” Sydney moved aside so that Nigel could come in out of the wind and close the door. “I've come to see my uncle. Is that okay?”

The nurse looked at her watch. “Well, visiting hours don't start for another ten minutes, but for Nicholas I'll make an exception.”

Sydney smiled. “Thanks.”

Nigel smiled too, his most winning smile. “Yes, thank you.”

Nurse Blackmore looked almost startled and a faint blush touched her cheeks. “You're welcome. I hope the two of you will be regular visitors for poor Nicholas. You should find him in the same lounge area as the last time.”

The two of them made their way down the now familiar hallway, its whiteness almost glaring. It was a relief to get to the homey lounge with its large chairs and lightly flickering television.

Nic was alone. He sat in a chair, staring into space as if day dreaming. Sydney wondered what he was seeing.

She approached him quietly, not wanting to startle him. He looked almost happy and she was reluctant to pull him out of his thoughts. Still, without his help, a treasure and possible relic would not be found. She was as determined to find it as she was to beat the location of her aunt's remains from Alfred Harrington after this whole thing was over. After all, Melody had died for whatever the coin was the key to. Sydney had to know if it was worth it.

“Uncle Nic?” she asked gently.

He turned towards her, his blue eyes far away.

“Hello, Uncle Nic.”

“Melody?” he asked. 

She had been expecting this. “No, it's Sydney. Remember?”

“Sydney. Yes. Sydney grown. Horses and cats. Trees and bicycles. Grown up now. Looking like and unlike my Melody.”

Sydney tried to make sense of this as she sat in the chair across from him. Nigel perched on the chair arm instead of taking one of the other chairs. She looked up at him. He winked encouragingly, and his hand brushed over her arm almost imperceptibly.

“Yes. I am Sydney. I've come to talk to you some more.”

His eyes cleared, and he said, “It's nice to have visitors. Who is your friend?”

This surprised Sydney because Nic hadn't even seemed to notice Nigel the last time they were there.

“I'm Nigel. Nigel Bailey.” He held out his hand politely, and Nic shook it.

“Hello, Nigel. Are you Sydney's husband?”

Nigel shot a look at Sydney and replied, “Not exactly.”

Nic's hand tightened. “Take care of her. Don't let her go. Keep her safe. If you don't, you'll regret it.”

“Don't worry,” Nigel said so seriously, Sydney was sure he was sincere. “I will. Nothing will happen to her as long as I'm around.”

Nic nodded and loosed Nigel's hand. “I should have kept her safe. It's my fault. She depended on me, and I left her. ” His face was anguished as it focused on Sydney. “They killed her, you know.” 

“Yes,” she said softly. “I know.”

“She's lost, and I can't find her. I searched and searched...but what good's the coin without her?”

“That's why we've come. We know that you have the answer.”

“The answer...the answer...what good is the answer with no song? The song is gone from my heart....Treasure is dust...dust...”

Sydney looked hopelessly at Nigel, who shrugged. She bit her lip and chose her next words carefully. “We had a visit from Cougar last night.”

“Cougar. A nice boy. Way too nice. They will break him.” Nic's lost voice turned sad, and slightly more lucid. “He's not like them, and they won't stand for it. He'll be as lost as I am.”

“You remember Cougar, then?” Sydney asked eagerly.

“Of course. The only one of them worth something...But, if you are Sydney...How many years again? How many?”

“Twenty-five.”

“He is a man now.”

“He is.”

He took Sydney's hand and asked. “How is he? Has he become one of them?”

She shook her head. “I don't think so. He came to warn us about his uncle. He also told us about the second poem. Do you remember the second poem, Uncle Nic?”

“The poem is the answer.”

“We know. And we know that you are the only one who has been able to figure it out.”

“A lot of good it did me.” His voice had turned bitter, and he drew from Sydney to sit back in his chair. “It cost me everything.”

This was the most sane thing that Sydney had heard her uncle say. She couldn't refute the words. Their truth shone from the man who had changed so much after Melody's death. Nic had lost his wife, he had lost his life, and he had lost his sanity.

“It might have cost you everything,” Nigel said slowly, “but it just might save Sydney's life.”

“Her life?”

“Yes. Harrington has threatened her.”

“Nigel.” Sydney tapped him lightly on the knee with her fist, afraid that mention of Harrington and death would throw Nic back into the past.

Nic's eyes widened. “He'll kill her?”

“So Cougar says.”

“I can't lose her again...Can't lose her again...The poem has killed her...the poem will save her...”

“Uncle Nic?” Sydney asked urgently, afraid his babbling would turn incoherent.

“I solved it,” he said. “A hundred years and no one could figure it out. They weren't looking at it right, weren't reading it right. Cougar came the closest, but he was only ten years old. He didn't understand. It spoke of dead fathers, but it didn't mean the graveyard. It spoke of stone crosses but did not mean gravestones. They were so sure the answer lie in their own pasts that they ignored the obvious. All this time, they've been searching the graveyard, when...” He beckoned Sydney closer. She leaned forward, excitement mounting, “...the words meant the museum. The entrance is in the museum, where anyone could have found it, but no one did because no one knew.”

“The museum?” Sydney whispered because Nic had, and because she knew Alfred had spies watching him. “Where in the museum?”

“Look for the dead fathers, and look for stone crosses. They will show you the way. The horror of death, the birth of life...and most of all, the symbol of the cat.”

When Sydney was sure he had finished speaking, she leaned back and nodded at Nigel's questioning gaze. She had the answers she needed.

“Thank you, Uncle Nic.”

“You'll be safe now, Melody?” he asked urgently.

“Yes, I'll be safe.”

“Stay away from them. They will hurt you. Hide the coin. Hide it. If they find it, all will end...”

Sydney reached out and took the broken man's chin in her hand. Gently, she raised his face so that her eyes looked directly into his.

Firmly, she said, “Not this time.”

Unexpectedly, Nic smiled. It washed over his face, lighting dark and shadowed corners. She answered the smile with one of her own, softly caressing his cheek before releasing him.

“We have to go now,” she told him. “But we'll be back to see you. I'm not leaving you all alone again.”

“Nigel?” he asked, as if once more just remembering that the Englishman was there.

“Don't worry, sir. I'll take care of her. It won't happen again.”

“Thank you.”

Nic then lost his focus and turned his gaze to the wall. Sydney liked to think that he was with Melody again, both of them happy and whole.

She and Nigel got up quietly, though a train wreck probably wouldn't have disturbed her uncle then. In excitement, she grabbed Nigel's hand as they left the room. He squeezed back, understanding as she knew he would.

Now, they had all the clues. All that remained was to find out what they meant.


	10. Chapter 10

The moment Sydney and Nigel entered Karen's room to announce that they had returned, they knew something was wrong. Claudia's face was as white as a sheet, and Karen's face was flushed and stunned.

“What is it?” Sydney demanded as she pulled off her gloves and started unbuttoning her jacket. 

Claudia glanced at Karen, who answered, “It's the waitress, her name was June Morrow. She's dead.”

“Dead?”

“Was it Harrington?” Nigel asked, also unbuttoning his jacket.

“I don't know, but she didn't die a very...nice...death.”

Sydney frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Her body was ripped and torn as if she'd been attacked by an animal,” Claudia said faintly.

“What?”

“I guess that's not so uncommon around here,” Karen continued. “At least, that's what the policeman I talked to told me. There are predators in the forest. They found her in the playground.”

“Dead women tell no tales,” Nigel said grimly.

Sydney sighed. “I wish I could have talked to her. Maybe we should have waited for her last night.”

“That's when she was killed.” Karen stood up, rubbing her arms. “Sometime around midnight.”

“She didn't even know anything. They didn't have to kill her!”

“If it was indeed Harrington,” Nigel said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It could have been an animal as they suspect.”

“Oh, it was him. I know it was. It was a warning.”

“So, what do we do?”

“We go to the museum and find out what all this is about.”

“Museum?” Claudia asked, some color coming back to her face. “What museum?”

It was Sydney's turn to fill Karen and Claudia in on what they had learned at Shady Acres.

When she finished, Claudia looked at her in awe as she said, “I guess this means we're close, huh?”

“Very.”

“You know, Syd,” Karen commented, “I don't think I've ever been there when you discovered a relic before.”

“I have,” Claudia said. “And twice, it wasn't all that great. But this time is going to be better.”

Karen raised an eyebrow.

“Once, Claudia was kidnapped,” Sydney explained, “and the other time, well...”

She trailed off and Claudia shuddered. “It was not fun...But the necklace was worth it.”

Sydney smiled at her. “That's my girl.”

“Some day, you're going to have to tell me that story, Claudia,” Karen insisted.

“Sure.” Claudia stood up. “But now, I could go for some grub. I think they serve salads in the hotel restaurant.”

Nigel nodded enthusiastically. “I could go for some lunch myself—a big juicy hamburger.”

Claudia stuck out her tongue. “You are so gross, Nigel!”

This broke the tension in the air and they all laughed in relief. Sydney dug through her satchel and found a fifty, so she offered to buy everyone lunch, which perked them up even more.

After breakfast, they headed over to the museum, which was a big, stately building near the library. It had once been the home of the first mayor of Clarksville, and the place hadn't been touched, except for restorations, for about a hundred and fifty years.

As they entered the front doors, a perky, dark haired woman came over to them.

“Hello!”

Sydney smiled at her, despite wincing at her sheer volume. “Hello.”

“Is this your first time in the Clarksville Museum?” She flashed her smile at Karen and Claudia, and then she sized up Nigel appreciatively.

“Yes, it is. We've heard that most of the house is as it has been for the past hundred years.”

“Yes. Donald Clark's descendants were very proud of him. In the 1890s, they restored everything to the way it was. It became a museum about twenty years later. The mistress of the house at the time was instrumental in it. She was married into the family, not even a descendant.”

“Really?” Sydney asked, a suspicion in her mind. “What was her name?”

“Patricia Harrington, I believe.”

Claudia gasped and Karen elbowed her

“Is something wrong?” The dark haired woman asked. 

“No,” Sydney assured her. “There are a lot of Harringtons in town, aren't there?”

“They are a very influential family.” Sydney nodded but didn't reply, so the guide asked, “Would you like a guided or unguided tour?”

“Unguided.”

“Okay. Just stay behind the ropes. Here are your information pamphlets.”

She handed them each a small book, her hand lingering on Nigel's for just a second longer than necessary. Sydney raised her eyebrow at him, causing him to blush and Karen to giggle.

When the woman was out of earshot, Sydney said, “Remember what we're looking for.”

Claudia reached into her jeans pocket and took out a piece of paper, which she waved in front of Sydney.

“Good. We'll make better time if we split up. Karen, you go with Claudia. If you find something you think could be the dead fathers or the stone crosses, come and get me. All right?”

“We'll be fine,” Karen assured her, then the two of them moved off, one holding the book and one the piece of paper.

Nigel groaned under his breath. “What have we unleashed on this poor museum?”

Sydney just threw him a grin. “Ready?”

“As always. Where are we off to, Syd?”

“Since Claudia and Karen are searching down here, why don't we search upstairs?” She consulted her guide. “It says here there are three bedrooms, a study, and a library up there. I also want to check the hallways.”

“The hallways?” He gave her a strange look. “Why the hallways?”

“It's just a strange feeling I have about the dead fathers.”

“Okay.”

They approached the house's curved stairway. It was wide enough that she and Nigel had no problems walking it side by side. As they went up, Sydney studied the banister. 

“Anything?” Nigel asked.

“No, but the stairs were a long shot.”

They started searching rooms methodically, sneaking under the red rope to search walls and ceilings and nooks and crannies. The bedrooms were first and, while interesting, didn't hint at anything like what they were looking for.

Sydney had hoped to find pictures of ancestors along the hallway, representing the “dead fathers”, but it only yielded wallpaper and a horrible painting of a frightened girl under the pale light of the moon. Sydney studied it for several minutes, noting the terror on the girl's face, her slashed clothing, and a shadow that fell across her trembling body. The plaque underneath said: “The prey. Painting by William Harrington, 1803. Donated to the museum by its founder, Patricia Harrington.”

“The Harrintongs are one creepy family,” Nigel said from behind her, making her jump.

“Yes, they are.”

She knew they were on to something as soon as they entered the library. At first, she wasn't sure why. There were the expected books from floor to ceiling, with gaps to allow for windows, paintings, and a big mahogany desk with a dusty globe.

“Search carefully, Nigel,” she said, “I think we might have something here.”

“Okay.”

As they had in the other rooms, they stepped over the waist high ropes. Sydney went to the desk, and Nigel went to the bookshelves. She had just knelt to study the drawers on the front of the desk, wondering if they could be hiding what they sought, when Claudia and Karen entered noisily.

Sydney glanced up. “I thought you guys were checking out downstairs.”

“There wasn't much down there,” Karen told her. “How are you guys making out?”

“We haven't found anything yet either.”

“What about that?” Claudia asked, pointing up.

The others followed her finger, which was pointed at one of the ceiling's corners. Along the molding, as white as bone, was a cross. Looking at the other corners, Sydney saw that all of them had small but perfect crosses.

A slow smile spread over her face. “What do you want to bet that, unlike the rest of the molding, those crosses are made of stone?”

“Yeah,” Nigel replied, “and I think I found something too.”

“What's that?” She moved across the room to see what he was looking at.

He reached into the bookcase and brought out a tome bound with red leather. This, he handed to Sydney.

“This shelf has four of these.”

“What are they?” she asked.

“Family histories, from the time the Clarks came over from Europe until about 1950. These records were kept even after the house was turned into a museum.”

Sydney flipped through the book in excitement. “So, it wasn't pictures after all, Nigel. Family records!”

“Then, we're definitely on the right track?” Karen asked.

“It looks like it.”

Claudia looked at the piece of paper she still had crumpled in her hand. “So...we just need to figure out what Nic meant about 'horror of death' and 'birth of life'.”

Sydney's eyes scanned the room. Not far from where she was standing, there were two paintings, side by side. These were also by William Harrington. One of the paintings was of a slender, blond haired, green eyed woman emerging from some sort of leaf, her arms reaching towards the sun, her face bathed in light and full of ecstasy. The other was of the same woman, lying in a field full of flowers, her heart pierced with an arrow and blood trickling down her pale skin. In both paintings, the woman was naked. They were titled “Beginning” and “End”.

“There.” Her hand went instinctively to Nigel's shoulder.

“I think you've got it, Syd,” he replied almost immediately.

Claudia and Karen went over to study the paintings, while Sydney and Nigel shared a triumphant look.

“Do you think the whole family is crazy?” Claudia asked, squinting to better see the woman in the painting's wounds.

“They just might be,” Sydney said, “though Cougar is nice enough. My uncle shouldn't be the only one locked up—at least he's harmless.”

She joined the other two to also study the paintings. As she got closer, she noticed that both of them had a small round circle about the size of the pad of her thumb on the lower right hand corner. Up close, the circles turned out to be miniature symbols matching the cougar on the coin.

She ran a gentle finger over the one on “Beginning”, feeling that the texture was just slightly different. She pushed harder and heard a small click.

“Karen, can you press the cat symbol on the lower right hand corner of that painting?”

“Cat symbol?” Karen walked up to the painting. “Oh, I see it!”

She reached out and pushed. Sydney heard another click before a section of the wall moved away to reveal an opening and a very dark flight of stairs. Used to this sort of thing, Sydney dug in her satchel and found flashlights. She handed them around before taking one for herself.

She ran a glance over her friends and said, “Ready?”

The three of them nodded as one. Sydney would have found it funny if the whole thing weren't so serious. Claudia and Karen looked slightly frightened but Nigel, for once, looked determined. There was not a hint of fear on his face.

When had that changed? She wondered. When had he become so brave?

But then, she thought, he had always been brave. Courage wasn't not being afraid. Courage was being terrified of the demon and steadfastly going forward to meet it anyway. Nigel had never refused to go where she led. She never had to question that, and she had never had to question him.

He met her eyes and asked, “What?”

“Nothing. Let's go.”

Sydney went first. She liked going first because she could deal with any threat before it reached the rest of her party.

The stairs were stone, and the air was stale and cold. The walls were also stone, made from blocks, and slightly damp.

“Watch your step,” Sydney said behind her as she shone her light ahead.

Karen was directly behind her, and Nigel brought up the rear. As they descended, a slight breeze tickled Sydney's face and played with her hair. 

She pushed away cobwebs and carefully stepped as she had instructed the others. They were quiet, which was unusual, at least for Claudia. 

The stairs went down until they would have been parallel with the house's basement. She could tell the moment they went underground because the air turned even colder.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Sydney shone her light around. They were in a small room with stone walls and an earthen floor. The room itself was empty. She stepped into it, running her light around again, this time more slowly.

“It's a dead end!” Claudia said, exasperation in her voice.

“I don't think so.” This was Nigel. He had wandered a bit away from the others and was staring at the wall furthest from them.

Sydney hurried over to see what he'd found. As she got closer, her light joined Nigel's, illuminating words written in the wall's stone. Her mouth opened slightly as she moved her light to the top and began to read. Written there, with every word carved into a different piece of stone, was a poem that looked all too familiar.

_Darkness comes on an unsuspecting world_  
And something dangerous takes shape  
Claws and teeth and intelligence  
Lives and blood to rend and take 

_It haunts the night_  
It loves the dark  
It longs to tear and crush  
It shies from light  
That stops its heart   
And turns its life to dust 

_The stillness breaks with one shrill cry_  
The victims run but still must die  
The cat is loose to rule with fear  
The moon has risen, the time is near 

_Scream and moan, flesh and bone_  
The prey to bleed as the monster feeds  
It reeks of death, ripping into flesh  
But it cannot stay come light of day 

“I still hate that poem,” Claudia commented as she and Karen came up beside Sydney.

“Yes,” she agreed, “but this time, it is a lock just waiting for its key.”

“What do you mean?”

Sydney reached into her pocket and drew out the coin, once more caressing its words with gentle fingers. She didn't even have to read them in the dim light because she knew them by heart: Darkness. Claws. Teeth. Blood. Haunts. Crush. Heart. Dust. Shrill. Victims. Cat. Moon. Scream. Bone. Feeds.

It finally made sense.

She moved closer, but motioned the others to stay back in case there was a trap. Coming within arm's length of the wall, she studied it without touching it to make sure she really understood the clue. A small indentation the same size as the coin at the base of the poem clinched it for her.

Carefully, Sydney put the coin in the indentation, with the words pointed out. Then, she reached up and touched the stone containing the word “darkness”. It gave a little, and she heard a faint click.

“The coin tells you which words to press to unlock the door,” Nigel explained to Karen and Claudia.

Sydney smiled to herself, pleased that Nigel had also figured it out.

“Not to mention which words to press to avoid triggering a trap,” she added.

“You think there's a trap?” Karen asked.

“If what's in here is precious enough to kill for, there are traps.”

She touched the word “claws” and was rewarded with another faint click. Slowly, she went through the words, repeating each one in her mind before she pressed it. She did not want to make a mistake.

As her fingers pressed “feeds”, the wall gave a groan and a shudder. Claudia squeaked, and Sydney, from the corner of her eye, saw Karen grab Nigel's arm.

With a horrible screech, the wall began to rise. Beyond it was another room, vast and giving off a stale, musty scent. Near the door, Sydney's light revealed the remains of three people.

Besides the corpses, the room contained several chests. At first glance, she guessed there were at least twenty. All were wooden with big golden latches but no locks.

As the others entered, Claudia said, “Eww, Sydney. Do all of your adventures involve dead people?”

“A good many,” Nigel answered. “We do look for relics.”

“I wonder what's in those chests.” This was Karen, her blue eyes wide.

Sydney threw her a look. “Then, let's see, shall we?”

“Are there traps?”

She stopped a moment, getting the feel of the room. Nothing dangerous jumped out at her. She just felt death and age and silence.

“I don't think so, just be careful. Keep your eyes and ears open, and if I give a warning, do what I say without question. Okay?”

Karen and Claudia both agreed. Nigel didn't have to, he had done this so many times that his instincts were as good as hers.

She carefully moved forward, senses alert. Reaching the first chest, Sydney knelt to open it. She touched the latch and paused, but still no trap manifested itself. 

The others scattered to various chests across the room, but they waited for her before opening any of them.

She flipped the latch and raised the lid. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise as she took in what was inside. Whatever she'd been expecting, it hadn't been books and paper.

Absently, she heard Claudia exclaim that she had found jewelry in her trunk. It seemed not all the chests were filled with paper.

Not knowing how fragile the contents were, Sydney was extremely careful as she picked up the top book. She flipped through it, noting it had names and dates. It took a moment to recognize it was a genealogy. Starting with Patricia and Ezekiel, it went back...and back...and back...With amazement, she saw that the records went back further than any she had ever seen.

The next book was just a tome of Ezekiel Harrington's poetry. She set it aside quickly, in no way interested. The third book was a journal. It was old, older than the genealogy, and the cover appeared to be some sort of skin. She ran her hands over it, feeling its texture. Something told her that the skin hadn't come from an animal.

Her hands opened the book at a random page and she began to read. Though the entry was dated over a hundred years prior to Ezekiel Harrington's poems, and about fifty years before William Harrington's paintings, she immediately saw it was filled with the same theme. Blood and death and hunter and prey. At first, Sydney thought the author was just the first in a long line of loonies.

And then she read a passage that made the whole thing clear. She knew as soon as she read it that this wasn't part of the man's insanity. Something deep inside of her believed. Everything they'd learned flashed through her mind, and all the pieces seemed to fall together as she read:

_“The night comes. I can feel the desire coursing through my veins. It burns like fire and calls like sweet love. It fills all my emptiness, taking me from man to beast. I need it. I crave it. I must have it._

_'Soon, my mind will go as the transformation I live for and the hunger only raw flesh can feed washes over me._

_'Teeth will grow to rip and tear. Blood will drip down my pale fur, gloriously sweet._

_'Words cannot describe the moment when the sun sets and my body becomes fluid. I choose the type; I choose the shape. My body's form is up to me, and that is a heady power._

_'I have chosen my victim. She is young and beautiful, the daughter of the blacksmith, barely into her teens. Anticipation makes me count the minutes. Yes, it's only minutes now...”_

Sydney skipped ahead a bit and saw that an entry was made the next morning, describing the author's hunt and his kill. Not usually squeamish, she felt her stomach protest lightly at the images and closed the book.

The trunk held family papers, ones that told a sickening tale. The cat was not just a symbol for the Harringtons. Even though the idea was almost too fantastical to contemplate, it appeared the family was one of werecats. 

She dug through some more of the papers. Some were boring birth and death announcements, but others supported what the journal had said. She learned that all those born with the ability were green-eyed and that, after the setting of the sun, they could change into any breed of cat, though, since moving to New England, the preference was that of a catamount. The whole thing seemed impossible, but she had seen too many impossible things become reality to discount it.

As the others searched the rest of the trunks, Sydney continued to read the fascinating documents. The more she read, the more fascinated she became.

She heard footsteps and knew it was Nigel without even looking. His hand came to rest on her shoulder, so she raised her eyes to his face.

“What did you find, Syd?”

“Documents. If Alfred Harrington knows they are here, he probably doesn't want them to see the light of day. In themselves, they might be worth killing for. What did you find?”

“There's a fortune here—jewels, money, that sort of thing. If you're greedy, it's also worth killing for.”

“Harrington definitely seemed like the greedy type to me.”

“Me too. What exactly was in those documents of yours?”

“It's amazing, Nigel. Here, read for yourself.” She handed him one of the more revealing documents.

“You'll find it intriguing reading, I'm sure.” A voice from the doorway made four heads whirl in that direction. Sydney's stomach clenched as she saw Alfred Harrington standing there with a gun in his hand. “It's a shame you couldn't have waited a couple more hours,” he continued, “Then I could have given Nigel a first hand demonstration.”

Claudia let out a screech and grabbed Karen, who gripped her back just as tightly. Sydney slowly got to her feet, aware that Harrington was too far away for a quick lunge to relieve him of his gun.

“I knew Nic Parker had figured out how to find this place. I knew it! Twenty-five years I've waited for it to fall out of his addled brain.” His green eyes seemed to reflect the glow from the flashlights.

“You knew what was here,” Sydney said slowly, trying to buy time. “You knew your great, great grandfather hid a huge treasure because he was paranoid of theft...”

“He was?” Nigel asked, but she ignored him.

“And you knew he hid the proof about what you and the rest of your family are. This is most precious of all to you because it could destroy you—especially if people found out you killed June Morrow...and Melody.”

“It doesn't take a genius to figure that out, though if I would have known killing Melody would lock away any chance I had of finding this place, I wouldn't have done it. Now, at last, I'll be able to tie up loose ends. Nic can finally join his Melody.” Harrington let out an evil cackle more suited to the movies than real life. 

“You only let him live because he's the only one who knew how to both solve the code and find the treasure.”

“He couldn't die when his brain held all the answers, no matter how long it took to extricate them.”

“Did Nic know what the cat symbol really meant?” she asked, still watching the gun.

Harrington shrugged. “I don't know. Cougar might have told him. I never asked.”

He looked from Sydney to Nigel, then to Claudia, and finally to Karen. When he saw her, a feral smile claimed his face. It was a smile laced with hunger. Sydney had a feeling the hunger wasn't for Karen's body, at least in the human sense. Her mind flashed with the images in the journal and words from the awful poem flooded her mind.

“I came here planning to shoot you,” Harrington said, “but gun's are so messy.” He nodded to the skeletons near his feet. “I see my ancestor had the right idea. It will be so much easier to let the room kill you for me.”

“So, you're going to do what? Go out and and lock the door behind you?” Sydney asked.

“Sure. If I wait long enough, you'll be dead when I get back.” Then, he nodded at Karen. “Except you. You're coming with me.”

“What?” The frightened woman crowded even closer to Claudia.

“She's not going anywhere,” Sydney said firmly.

“Oh, yes. I think she is, because, if she doesn't, I'll shoot the rest of you, right here, right now, while she watches.”

“No!” Karen cried. “I'll go with you.”

“I thought you'd see it my way.”

“Karen!”

“It's all right, Syd.”

The small blond extricated herself from Claudia and started moving across the room. Sydney knew she was right up to a point. Everything would be fine for a few more hours—until the sun set.

Nigel flung a look at her, pleading with his eyes for her to do something to save Karen, and ultimately the rest of them as well. She gave him a look back, asking what he thought she could do with Harrington so far away that he could probably shoot two of them before she reached him. A look of desperation went over Nigel's face, and she was suddenly afraid he'd do something stupid. 

When Karen was close enough, Harrington grabbed her roughly and pulled her close. She swallowed hard, and she looked as if she might faint. Helplessly angry, Sydney watched with clenched fists.

“Say hello to your aunt for me,” Harrington said cheerily as he steered Karen towards the door.

Suddenly, Karen twisted in his grip, propelling her body sideways, towards him. Sydney's heart jumped as Karen's slight form slammed into that of her captor. He staggered, and a shot rang out, flying wildly and nearly hitting Claudia, who whimpered and dropped to the floor.

Sydney was in motion before Harrington recovered. Karen was moving away from him, and he lost his grip on her as he tried to right himself to give a more accurate shot. 

Sydney reached him before he could, kicking out at his wrist. The gun flew from his hand to land near the trunks, skittering as it hit the floor.

Harrington stared at her in shock, so she took the opportunity to lash out at his face with her right fist. He retaliated immediately, knocking her back a couple of steps. She dodged his next blow and gave another of her own.

He growled savagely, sounding more beast than human, and lunged at her, grabbing at her throat. She batted his hand away and swung out a leg, sweeping his out from under him. As he went down, he grabbed her jacket, taking her with him.

They grappled there on the floor for several minutes, Sydney on top but unable to loose herself from Harrington. He was surprisingly strong for his size, and the muscles under his pale skin felt like wire.

She wasn't expecting the sudden buck of his body that knocked her to the side. She struggled to regain her position, but he overpowered her and rolled on top.

This time, his hands had no trouble finding her throat, and once they were clamped on, they were as strong as steel. She pulled at them with her own hands, feeling the restriction the pressure was putting on her airway. Soon, she would be unable to breathe, and after that...

Harrington's eyes seemed to glow eerily as a savage, inhuman expression came to his face.

“It is not yet night, but I will feed,” he hissed in a tone so far removed from the one he had greeted them with the day before that it was hard to believe he was the same person.

“The only thing you'll be feeding on is prison fare.” Sydney heard through the buzzing in her ears.

There was a clunk, and Harrington's hands loosened as his body collapsed limply on top of hers.

“Are you all right, Syd?” Nigel asked.

“I think so.” She struggled to shift Harrington's body off of her and onto the floor. Nigel was standing above her, a vase in his hand. “I thought you said the trunks were filled with money and jewelry.”

“And a vase.”

“Obviously.”

She sat up carefully, rubbing her throat. Claudia and Karen were again hunched together, the former holding the gun in hands so shaky that Sydney hoped the safety was on.

Nigel reached out a hand and helped Sydney to her feet. “What do we do now?”

“What do you mean?”

“About all this? We found the treasure, but it's rightfully Harrington's—even though he was willing to kill us because we knew its whereabouts.”

“And because we know he killed June and Aunt Melody.”

“Not to mention the fact that we know his secret. No wonder Cougar disappeared last night.”

“You read?”

He nodded. “I read.”

“I'm tempted to just leave him in here and throw the coin in the Atlantic Ocean.”

“Syd.”

She smiled at him half heartedly to show that she was kidding...sort of. “I wish we could prove that he's a murderer. We still don't know where he hid Melody's body.”

“Well, that's one good reason to keep him alive.”

“There is that...”

Her words trailed off as she was body slammed by what felt like a wall. She stumbled into Nigel, and they fell in a tangle of arms and legs, with something bearing both of them to the floor.

“Don't shoot, Claudia!” Karen cried out, “You might hit Nigel or Sydney.”

Struggling to free herself, Sydney thought that was sound advice. She blinked as pain shot through her head when it was cracked against Nigel's. She saw little white stars when it immediately happened again.

Breath, hot and foul, puffed into her face as she heard Harrington's crazed beast voice say, “Scream and moan, flesh and bone, the prey to bleed as the monster feeds. It reeks of death, ripping into flesh...”

Claudia screamed. It was so shrill that it sliced through the fog in Sydney's brain. It was followed by a growl that didn't come from the man pinning both her and Nigel, and unlike his growl, this one had no trace of humanity in it. Instead, it was a feline roar of rage.

Claudia screamed again, and Sydney felt Harrington's heavy body roll off of her. Then, it was Harrington's turn to scream. It was high pitched and very human, cutting off in the middle. 

She turned to rise, not quite believing what her eyes were telling her. Alfred Harrington was lying on the floor, dead eyes staring at the ceiling. His throat had been shredded. Sitting on his chest, its jaws dripping with his blood, sat an enormous cat.

The cat looked at her, intelligence in its deep golden eyes. Its gaze was compelling, drawing her in. With effort, she looked away.

“Nigel.” He was on the floor, his eyes closed. “Nigel!” she said again, more urgently.

He blinked. “Am I alive?”

“Yes, thanks to Cougar.”

Without warning, the cat began to change. Arms shortened; legs lengthened. Fur retreated, and so did ears and fangs. The transformation was swift, like watching a DVD set on fast forward.

It took less than a minute for the cat to become a very normal looking, very naked, Cougar Harrington. Blood still dripped down his chin, and he self-consciously wiped at it with his wrist.

Nigel sat up quickly, his hand gripping Sydney's arm. “How...? I thought they could only change at night. We haven't been in here that long.”

“I was born different,” Cougar explained softly. “I've never needed the darkness to change...and I've never hungered for prey. It makes me sick what they do—Uncle Alfred and Amanda and my cousin, Brian. I couldn't stop them before. They hunt together, so overpowering them was out. I could never go to the police—not without winding up in a cell next to Nic's. Or in some laboratory experiment. Now, my uncle will disappear and no one will know what happened...like Nic's Melody.”

“You didn't have to kill him,” Sydney protested.

“Yes, I did. My uncle didn't leave loose ends. Can't you see, he would have hunted you down, and he wouldn't have given up until all four of you were dead. You would have been prey in his hunt. I couldn't let it happen this time, not when I could finally stop it.”

“How do you know we won't go to the police?”

Cougar shrugged, muscles rippling along his trim body. Like his uncle, he was thin and catlike even in human form. “I don't much care if you do. It's worth it to know Uncle Alfred can no longer hunt.”

Sydney glanced to the side to see Claudia and Karen carefully approaching. Claudia still held the gun, but her arm was limp at her side. Cougar glanced at them too and nodded in acknowledgment. It didn't seem to bother him that he was naked. The blood had bothered him more.

“Now that your uncle's dead,” Sydney commented, “I guess this belongs to you. Any idea what you'll do with it?”

He shrugged again. “Probably donate most of it. What I'm interested in is the family records. I need to know if there was ever another like me...Oh, by the way, Sydney, I managed to find out where they buried your aunt.”

“What?” She sat up straighter, her body suddenly more tense than it had been during the scuffles with Alfred.

Cougar's eyes burned into hers as he said, “I will take you there and then, maybe, just maybe, I will finally have peace.”

XXX

Sydney had no idea what she was going to say. Words had tumbled around in her mind for the whole drive through the snow covered countryside, but none of them seemed right. Now, she stood in the doorway of the familiar lounge with Nigel at her side, studying her uncle.

He was sitting in his usual chair, a tray with the forgotten remains of his breakfast nearby. She wondered what her news would mean to him and whether he would really comprehend it at all. Would it liberate him or push him even further under? Maybe it would do neither and his life would go on as it had for the past twenty-five years, merging the past and the present until he had no idea what was real and what wasn't.

Nic must have sensed her standing there because he turned his head and said, “Hello, Sydney.”

She felt her eyes widen in surprise that he had immediately recognized her. Elbowing Nigel gently so that he'd follow, she entered the room.

“Hello, Uncle Nic. How are you this morning?”

“Tired,” he said sadly, “so tired. And alone. Brown eyes haunt me. I see her smile when I sleep. I'm never alone but always alone...”

“I understand.” The funny thing was that she was beginning to. She wondered what it would be like to love someone so much that his death would completely incapacitate her. The thought was frightening, but it was also compelling. What must Nic and Melody's life together been like?

This time, she did not take the chair across from him. Instead, she knelt in front of him and looked him in the eye. It was reassuring after all that had happened to have ice blue regard her instead of shades of green.

“We have something to tell you.”

“News about the coin? Sydney has the coin, Melody. She has the coin...but you will not die again.”

“No, the news isn't about the coin. It's about Melody.”

“Melody's dead,” he whispered, putting a hand on her shoulder. “They killed her.”

“Yes, she is,” Sydney agreed, “and there's nothing we can do about that. You've known all these years. Harrington told you, didn't he? It was Alfred Harrington who came to visit you when they put you in here, wasn't it?”

“He killed her...killed my Melody...she's lost...lost...and I can't find her...”

Nic seemed less lucid than usual, but Sydney plowed on. He had to be told, and she knew if she didn't tell him, no one would.

“It's all right, Uncle Nic. Nigel and I found her. We found Melody.”

The hand on her shoulder squeezed and she saw real understanding go through his eyes. “You found her?”

“Yes,” she assured him softly. “We found her, and she will be laid to rest with Isabelle and Makaio. Now, her soul can find peace.”

Nic began to tremble, and tears came to his eyes. Sydney's heart ached for him as they overflowed and started to slowly slip down his cheeks.

“Found...” he mumbled, “...found at last...she can finally sleep...”

“Yes,” Nigel said, coming up behind Sydney and putting his hand over Nic's, which still rested on her shoulder. “Now, she can finally sleep—and it's because of you. You helped to find Melody.”

The tears continued to drip down his face, but he didn't say another word. Sydney and Nigel stayed for a little while longer, just watching him. They saw the joy with the tears, and she was sure Nic was communing with his dear Melody once more. 

As she got up to leave, she kissed her uncle gently on the forehead, promising to be back soon. He didn't acknowledge it, but that didn't matter. She intended to keep the promise anyway.

XXX

When they got back to Sydney's house, Claudia hurried upstairs to pack. It was New Year's Eve, and she had tickets to one of the biggest bashes in New York. Using her cell phone on the long drive from Clarksville, she had managed to book a flight on a plane that would get her there on time. The rest of the way home, she chattered on excitedly about what the party would be like. Karen answered her eagerly, but Sydney found the discussion gave her a headache. When she glanced at Nigel, he made a gun with his fingers and pretended to shoot himself in the head. Sydney laughed, causing Claudia to emerge from her rant long enough to ask what was so funny. Sydney shot Nigel a dirty look and made up an answer she hoped would appease her friend. She needn't have worried. Claudia was in “all talk and no listen” mode.

Claudia packed faster than Sydney had ever thought possible. Within fifteen minutes of bounding upstairs, she began lugging stuff down. Nigel watched her for a bit before giving in and politely offering to help her.

“You're so sweet!” she exclaimed, which he took for a yes.

It took them longer to bring the stuff down that it had for Claudia to pack it. Even so, soon Sydney's Jeep was filled with pink luggage. 

The four of them stood in the living room as the reality hit them. It was time to say good-bye. Sydney found herself not wanting to. Despite Claudia's silly and often annoying quirks, she thought of her as a flighty but lovable little sister, and she had missed Claudia's joy terribly in the two years since the great job in New York had lured her away.

Claudia's bright blue eyes filled with tears, and she bit her lip. Lowly, she said, “I don't think I really want to go.”

Sydney forced a smile. “You've got to go some time. Think of the brilliant job you've got waiting for you.”

She sighed. “I know, but it's so far away. I'm going to miss you guys.”

“We'll miss you too,” Nigel said, the honesty plain in his voice. “Life is certainly more interesting when you're around.”

She threw her arms around him, startling him. “I'll especially miss you, honeybun! We always have so much fun together.”

He squeezed her back firmly. “You should come visit more.”

“I will,” she said, pulling away and turning to Sydney.

They regarded each other silently for several heartbeats. Despite the fact that they were completely opposite in every way possible, both in appearance—where one was rail thin, with pale skin, eyes and hair, and the other was dark and curvy with just a hint of the exotic in her features—to their personalities, they had somehow become very close friends.

“Thank you again for inviting me for Christmas,” Claudia said, swallowing hard.

“You're welcome. Maybe we can make it our little family's tradition.”

“I'd like that.”

She threw her arms around Sydney, crushing the older woman in a strong grip. Sydney smiled and hugged her back just as hard.

“You behave yourself in New York, you hear me?”

“Yes, Mommy.” Claudia laughed through her tears. When she pulled away, she was wiping her eyes with her thumb. She swallowed again and turned to Karen. “Okay, I guess I'm ready.”

Karen nodded and grabbed Sydney's keys off of the coffee table. She would be taking Claudia to the airport. While she was doing that, the relic hunters would be performing the labourous task of taking down the tree.

Sydney and Nigel followed Claudia to the entryway, where she and Karen put on their outside clothes. Claudia talked the whole time, her little girl voice light and gay. She insisted the other three come and visit her soon.

“My apartment's certainly big enough, and we'd have loads of fun.”

“Call us, and we'll see if we can get our schedules to match,” Sydney told her. “Now, hurry up or you're going to miss your plane.”

Claudia hurriedly finished zipping her jacket as Karen opened the door. She gave a little wave, and then the two of them headed through the snow to the Jeep.

Sydney and Nigel stood in the open doorway to watch them go. Once Claudia got in the the Jeep, she started waving wildly, and they waved back. The three of them waved until Karen turned out of the driveway and Sydney's Jeep disappeared down the road.

As she closed the door, Sydney sighed. “It was nice having all of you here for Christmas.”

“It was great,” Nigel agreed. “Despite being threatened by a crazy cat-man, it was a nice Christmas.”

Her face broke into a smile and she punched him in the arm. He winced comically and rubbed it, causing her smile to turn into a laugh.

“I hope we do get a chance to do this again next year,” she said.

“Me too.”

She took his elbow when he would have went to the living room and steered him towards the kitchen. “How about some hot chocolate?”

“This may be the last chance I have in some time, so yes.” Then, he paused as they reached the kitchen door. “...uh, Syd...”

“What?”

His arms reached out unexpectedly and wrapped themselves around her. Sydney squeaked in a most undignified way as Nigel pulled her close to meld her body to his. She didn't even have time to absorb this, or the fact that their bodies fit together way better than she expected them to, when he kissed her. It was a sweet, soft kiss that sent an excited tingle through her body. Letting the flow take her, she returned the hug, allowing her fingers to come up and caress the back of his neck. 

The moment lasted much too briefly, and she was slightly out of breath when he pulled from her and she demanded, “Nigel, what the hell?”

A cheeky grin spread over his face as he pointed upwards with his eyes. Sydney followed his gaze to see that Karen, ever hopeful, had left one spring of mistletoe above the kitchen doorway.

Feeling evil and want to get back at Nigel for not warning her before he kissed her, she shrugged and said, “Well, in that case...”

She felt Nigel's surprise as she pulled him back into an embrace and kissed him firmly. Her body hummed in pleasure as he tangled a hand in her hair and responded to her kiss with enthusiasm.

I could really get used to this, she thought before completely losing herself to the moment.

XXX

_Sydney was sitting by the ocean, listening to the surf as it gently claimed the sand. The sun was warm on her skin, and the white grains tickled between her toes. There was a slight breeze, damp but pleasant, that played freely with her hair. Peace surrounded her, bringing with it a soothing calm. For once, she was happy sitting still._

_“Sydney.”_

_She looked up, shading her eyes with one tanned hand and smiled at the slight woman who had silently approached her. The woman smiled back and lowered herself to sit beside Sydney in the sand. She appeared to be the same age as Sydney, and her eyes and hair were just as dark. That was where the similarities ended._

_“Hi, Mom,” Sydney said. “It's been a long time since we've met here.”_

_Usually, now, when she dreamed of her mother, it was of vague moments, full of motion. She attested that to the frantic pace of her life._

_“Yes,” Rosemarie Fox agreed, putting her arm lightly around Sydney's shoulders. “You are so grown up now. I'm so proud of what you've become.”_

_“Are you really?” she asked eagerly, looking into a face she barely remembered but still missed longingly every day._

_“How couldn't I be? You are doing amazing things. You grew into an honest, honourable woman. What more could I want?”_

_“Sometimes I wonder if it's enough,” Sydney admitted quietly._

_“You will always be enough.” The arm around her shoulders squeezed._

_“Thank you.”_

_“No, sweetie. I'm the one who should be thanking you.” Rosemarie waved her free hand towards a figure Sydney hadn't noticed._

_It too was a woman, taller and curvier than petite Rosemarie, and more Nigel's age than Sydney's. Sydney recognized enough of her own features in the face to know she was seeing Melody. The face was more serious than she remembered, with sad brown eyes._

_“You found her,” Sydney whispered._

_“No, you found her. You found her and brought her back to us. We don't have to search for her anymore.”_

_“But what about Uncle Nic?” She didn't know why she asked about him in that perfect moment of time. The question just slipped from her lips._

_Her mother did not get angry as she half expected. Instead, Rosemarie said, “He is welcome here among us. When he comes, he and Melody will each be whole again. We wronged him back then, Sydney, Maman and I. We didn't understand the bond that held them together.”_

_“I like him.”_

_“Compassion is one of your gifts, Sydney. It's one that I'm most proud of you for.”_

_Then, Rosemarie's arm loosened, and Sydney knew their brief moment was over. Her mother paused only to kiss her lightly on the forehead before walking towards her sister. Only once did she turn back, blowing a kiss on the wind as she had when Sydney was a little girl._

_Alone again, Sydney sat in the sand contemplating the gift she had just received. After what seemed like a long time, she too got to her feet. Brushing the sand from her clothes, she began walking in the opposite direction, towards Nigel, and towards life._

The End


End file.
